


A Rebellious House

by Mercutio



Series: Snipers Do It From A Distance; Assassins Do It From Behind [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BAMF Clint Barton, Captain America Does NOT Approve, Clint Barton's Bow & Arrows, Darcy just wanted cuddles, F/M, Frank discussion of sex, Kissing, Not Canon Compliant, Steve Rogers is a jerk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-21 05:53:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 25,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13734531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercutio/pseuds/Mercutio
Summary: Captain America is just concerned for the team when he finds his ex cuddling up with someone else's boyfriend. Darcy only wanted snuggles. And snipers see all.But does anyone else?  And can they make Steve see it too?





	1. Eyes To See

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Eyes To See](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13692633) by [Mercutio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercutio/pseuds/Mercutio). 



> This story has taken over my brain. I can't sleep.

Darcy had curled up with Thor on the couch for comfort. Because Thor was comfy and muscular and warm and welcoming and touching him didn't mean anything to him other than that they were friends and that he liked her company. That she had a thing for cuddling with men didn't mean anything, nor did the fact that it felt better if they liked her. It wasn't sexual. Neither of them was cheating on Jane. She wasn't looking to hook up and neither was he.

It was fine.

Except Steve was standing there, hands on hips, glaring at them. Well, more specifically, at her.

In full self-righteous Captain America mode, every bit the epitome of right and good.

Her ex.

That was a shitshow she didn't want to revisit anytime soon.

But it looked like she was going to, like it or not.

The captain cleared his throat pointedly. "Miss Lewis…"

"Dude, we fucked. Call me Darcy."

If anything, his expression grew even sterner. "Darcy. You may find it acceptable to behave… inappropriately…"

His tone made it clear that he meant "like a whore", even though the words would never fall from his oh so perfect lips.

"But you owe more respect to your boss than to…" he waved his hand at where Darcy sat, draped around Thor, "…disrespect her like this."

Thor looked up this, brow creasing. "Is there a problem?"

"No," Steve said, in that way that said, 'Clearly, *yes*', "I understand that you're unfamiliar with our customs, but… well… Darcy shouldn't be taking advantage of your ignorance to…"

Darcy's face flamed. To anyone else, the conversation might have seemed innocent. But Steve and Darcy had *history*. And she could read between the lines. Just because he'd taken her cuddling with him as meaning she wanted something more and she'd been stupid enough to take him up on it didn't mean that she was out to bang every Avenger. They weren't Pokemon. "Behave like a slut? Is that what you meant, Captain Rogers?"

His ears reddened, but he didn't look away. "Not in so many words…"

"So, yes, then." Darcy extricated herself from Thor and stood up. Two spots of color burned on her cheeks. "Look here, Captain Morality, you have no idea what's going on here, not that it matters, because you have no say in what I do or who I do it with--"

"I do when it affects the team. The Avengers don't need a Victory Girl making flitting from guy to guy. It destabilizes teamwork." He waved his hand at Thor. "I've seen how you are with Stark and Banner and now this. It's unacceptable."

Darcy was so angry she couldn't focus. "Well, so's your face!"

On that note, she stormed out, leaving Thor behind on the couch and Steve standing over him, frowning at the direction she'd gone in.

And above them, an unseen observer, watching it all play out.

****

Contrary to popular belief, Clint doesn't live in the vents. He just liked to know what was going on and he liked to do it without anyone knowing he was there. After Loki, he especially liked it when he could pretend that he wasn't there as well. It made him feel safer to be out of the action.

That this allowed him to witness moments that others might have wanted to keep private was irrelevant. He wasn't going to tell anyone. Unless it was Tony and he thought it would piss him off.

This time, however, was different. He was concerned. Yeah, that was it. Concerned about Darcy. Not because she was easy on the eyes. Not because she had a smart mouth and he liked that. Not because she had a kind word and a smile whenever someone who would remain unnamed really needed one. But because he was concerned. Never mind that Jarvis monitored everything that happened in the tower.

Crawling after her, Clint heard her before he saw her. Darcy hadn't gone far. She'd locked herself in a room on the same floor of the tower.

He wasn't able to see her though, because she had another observer. The Winter Soldier already occupied the other side of the vent, looming there in the dimness, already watching the room below.

Clint nodded to Barnes. He understood the man better than either of them wanted. There was an unspoken agreement between them. He edged forward, looking down at the woman slumped against the wall, arms around her knees, angry sobs shaking her body.

"Aw, Darcy, no," Clint whispered.

The other man cocked his head, silently asking Clint for information. Clint was impressed. An actual expression crossed the Winter Soldier's face. It could have been an eye roll, but his face returned to its customary murder stare so quickly that Clint couldn't say for sure. In any case, the implication was clear: Barnes wanted an explanation and wanted it now.

The archer gave him a long look, then nodded before spilling the whole story. Both the words spoken, but also the parts of the conversation implied but unvoiced. In clipped words, he added, "The only thing I didn't get is what a Victory Girl is supposed to be."

Barnes's glare got even more murdery and his metal hand flexed into a fist. "Steve is a dick."

Clint nodded. "Yeah." He didn't say anything else. They understood each other and Clint didn't want to leave Darcy alone for too long.

Quietly, he removed the panel blocking him off from the floor, then dropped down next to Darcy. Habit made it silent. Clint looked up to see if Barnes was going to replace the panel, but instead saw him also coming down from the ceiling.

Clint raised his eyebrows, but the Winter Soldier jerked his head at the crying woman, and Clint nodded. Yeah. Priorities.

"Hey," he said, kneeling next to Darcy. "It's me. You doing okay? You don't look so good."

****

Darcy hadn't heard a thing. Clint's words startled her. When she looked to her right, she saw him on one knee, hand outstretched to her as though he wanted to touch her, but wasn't quite sure whether she'd want him to.

Behind him loomed the tower's other sniper. She had no idea why he'd come, why either or both of them had come after her. Neither had been there when Steve had chewed her out. Of course, that wouldn't stop spysassins from spying…

As much as she wanted to take Clint's hand and pull him to her and lose herself in his embrace, she wiped her face instead. "Agent Biceps. And Bucky. Great. Just what I need right now. More Avengers to ruin with my slutty ways."

Clint stiffened, rocking back on his heels, hands held up and away from her. "It's not like that. I don't know what Steve's problem is, but he had no business talking to you like that."

"James," the other man added. "Call me James. Bucky is someone Steve remembers, not me. And Barton's right. The punk doesn't know how to treat a lady."

Darcy snorted, a sound that lost some of its impact when she had to sniffle immediately afterward. "Not a lady. Obviously. And, no, because no way people are going to believe some ditzy, glorified babysitter over Captain America."

Six feet of muscled menace settled down in front of her, cross-legged. "I believe you, doll."

Darcy bit her lip as she turned her head, looking up at him through her hair. "You think so? But like you said, you're his Bucky. His BFF, soulmate, all that."

"Not his. And it doesn't make him any less of a fat-head from time to time."

Darcy stared at him for a long moment, then giggled. Clint relaxed his cautious stance a little, as the giggle made the woman in front of him seemed less sad. But it didn't last for long, as she broke off into more sobbing.

A gentle hand settled on her shoulder. This time Darcy didn't resist. Reaching up, she placed her hand on Clint's forearm. Unable to resist the urge any longer, she squeezed it, tugging him in her direction.

"I know I should be good," Darcy said. She wiped her free hand across her eyes and looked up at Clint, taking in his concerned expression. Oh, how she wanted the security of his arms around her. "I know I should suck it up and tell you I'm going to be okay, because I am. Eventually. But I'd really like it if you'd hold me right now. I know we don't do this and maybe's Steve's right…"

"Steve's a fucking asshole," Clint said bluntly and let her grip on his arm pull him down. He sat down, stretching his legs around her so that he could enfold her in his embrace.

He wore a sleeveless purple shirt today and his arms were so, so warm. Darcy wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into the hollow at the base of his neck. "Sorry. Sorry I need this. Sorry I want this."

The two men exchanged a look she couldn't see over top of her head.

"Darcy," Clint began tentatively. "I heard what Steve said to you. I don't agree with any of it, I want you to know that. And I don't think Barnes does either."

"No, I don't," came a gravelly denial.

"But it seems like there's more going on that what I overheard."

"You could say that," Darcy said, huffing out a bitter laugh.

"Wanna tell us about it? You don't have to. I mean, I hated having to talk to the shrinks after the Loki thing. But maybe you want to?"

Just the timber of his voice alone reassured her. Made her feel safe, wanted. Oh, Darcy. You're such a sucker. "Yeah. I guess. You might as well know. Then at least you'll be warned. I won't -- you'll know why you need to avoid me after this."

"Not going to avoid you, doll," James said.

Darcy shivered. His voice stroked over her spine and she clung more closely to Clint, seeking the feeling of his solidity in her arms, his reality. "You already do. Both of you."

They exchanged glances again. She could feel Clint's chin moving against her hair when he turned his head to look at James. She couldn't tell what they were communicating between them.

"Nah, we weren't," Clint told her. He ran his hand gently over her back. "Just… used to keeping things at a distance. More since everything that's gone down. Nothing to do with you."

"I watch you," James said, staring at the floor. Even when Darcy gasped, he didn't look up. "I like being around you. When you and Stevie started stepping out, I followed you around, making sure you were good for him. Kept doing it when it made me feel better hearing you or seeing you."

For him, that was a long speech Darcy knew. "Slightly creepy," she told him, "but kudos for being a good bro."

She let her arms drop, putting a little space between herself and Clint, but not pulling away. "Thank you. For coming after me and for not being judgmental pricks."

"Tell us how you really feel," Clint said in a joking tone.

"Oh, you don't want me to do that," Darcy said dismissively. "I mean, I'd love to, but you're guys. You don't want to hear all that." She looked at James. "Especially since I'd be bad mouthing your bestie."

He huffed. She thought it was probably his version of a laugh. The Winter Soldier didn't make sounds accidentally. "Nothing I haven't said to his face."

Darcy arched her eyebrows. "You've told him he treats you like a sex doll? 'Cause, dude, dish."

The arms around her tightened as the man in front of her growled. Resting murder face was scary enough. She didn't need a soundtrack to accompany it.

"That was supposed to sound funny," Darcy said weakly.

"It wasn't," Clint informed her. "I can have Natasha kill him for you."

"You wouldn't do it yourself?" she asked, trying hard to recapture the mood. She'd almost gotten away with being comforted -- cared about, touched, even hugged! -- without embarrassing herself by being Slutty McSlutterson and trying to get them to stay.

"I've got something more important to do right now."

"Oh," Darcy said, trying not to sound as bleak as that made her feel. She eased away from Clint. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"Hey!" Clint said, recapturing her gently, one hand coming up to her head to press it lightly against his chest. "I meant you. Taking care of you. That's more important."

She didn't want to. She really didn't want to. But the tears didn't care what she thought, only how she felt. And she felt fucking miserable. "All I wanted was cuddling with optional making out. I didn't want to be his perfect poster child princess or the awed recipient of his manly penis." She let out a little scream, frustrated with her inability to control herself, with Steve, with the whole situation. "It wasn't my fault that I wasn't his perfect cut-out doll princess. I wasn't, it wasn't, it wasn't!"

"Of course it wasn't, sweetheart," Clint whispered, rocking her.

A heavy hand settled on her ankle, metal fingers rubbing soft circles over her socked foot.

"And now I'm using you and oh God, he's right. Here I am with you and I do flirt with Tony and Bruce and I *liked* hanging all over Thor and I don't wanna stop!" she wailed.

Overwrought as she was, that probably wasn't a chuckle she'd just heard from James. But his words came through clearly. "Ain't nothing wrong with that, doll."

Darcy snorted. "Apparently there is." She let go of Clint so she could run a hand over her suddenly aching forehead. Looked like crying caused headaches. Go figure. "I just don't understand why he's acting like this. I cuddled with him because I like cuddling. I wasn't going to ask him for anything more. I don't do that. It wasn't a come on. I knew he was out of my league. But then he asks me out and sure, I'm willing to take the chance. Relationships are all about taking chances. I thought maybe he'd seen something in me he liked."

Clint cleared his throat meaningfully. "Ah…"

"Yeah, besides the awesome tits," Darcy shot back, rolling her eyes.

"No, what I meant was, as much as he wants to pretend he's Steve Rogers, ordinary guy, he really isn't."

Darcy let her head loll back so she could look at Clint. "Not to stop you, but where you going with this, kemo sabe?"

"He's Captain America. He takes the costume off physically, but not mentally. He's always in character."

"Still not seeing where you're going with this."

"He does it to me," James said quietly. "He looks at me and he sees Bucky. He doesn't see…" He shrugged.

It wasn't just that. It was about the sex and yeah, Steve Rogers was very much a guy in that regard. Still, she could kinda see what they meant. When she and Steve dated, he treated her like some kind of virginal maiden. Even in bed really. Missionary position all the way, no foreplay, just a quick pawing of the tits and then in and out and afterward, he might condescend to touch her clit. But he made it clear that he thought that should have been unnecessary.

Darcy sighed. They didn't need to hear all of that. She gave the former Winter Soldier a sad smile and patted his hand where it rested on her ankle. "Yeah. Exactly. I think that's why he pisses Tony off so much. He expects Tony to be Howard and Tony hates the man. I don't know what he saw instead of me. But it wasn't Darcy Lewis." She laughed bitterly. "Which explains today, I guess. He still doesn't see me, but the person he sees is the kind of bitch who would hang all over the Avengers trying to get laid by as many of them as possible."

"You're not," Clint reassured her instantly.

"And how do you know that, huh? Maybe all I see are muscles and glamorous superheroing and not dedication, determination and pain. Maybe I'm just that shallow--" She shook her head. "Sorry, unfair. It's just… assumptions, dude. They mess you up."

He squeezed her gently. "That they do."

She looked between him and James. "You know that I'm not looking for anything from either of you, right?" Her eyes were anxious. "I mean, thank you both for being awesome and I totally appreciate how amazing both of you are -- even more amazeballs than I already thought you were -- but I'm not delusional. I like you and I like this, but I'm not angling for me. I know you both are…" She waved her hand. "Well, in one case, not open to any options and in the other, well supplied with all the possible options, of which I am not even going to pretend I can compete with."

"There are so many things wrong with that statement," Clint commented, brushing his nose against her hair. "I can't even begin to list them all."

James nodded in agreement. "I see you, doll. And Barton does too."

"It's what we do," Clint agreed. "We see."

Something unspoken hung in the air, the moment pregnant with something anticipatory. Something bigger.

For the first time since they'd sat down, Darcy was afraid. She hadn't been afraid when they'd come in; it had been obvious that they were here because she was crying. It'd been even more obvious that there was nothing untoward going on, because there was no history between the three of them. The brainwashed ex-assassin flinched away even from contact with Steve, much less her. And while she'd exchanged words with Clint and he'd snitched a few of her cookies when she baked, she couldn't call either of them friends or particularly close. This little interlude was just two genuinely good guys caring about someone in distress.

That she'd been enjoying the attention and soaking up the warmth of Clint's touch and the subtle affection that both men were showing her -- that was a bonus, and something for her to relive guiltily later when she was alone again.

But this? Them telling her they saw her? Giving her the slightest bit of hope that maybe she mattered to them… She could really get her heart hurt here if she let their words convince her that there was something more than just two superheroes proving that they could be little h heroes as well.

It terrified Darcy. She needed to put space between them before she started believing that they-- yeah. She needed to go soonest.

She pulled away from the both of them, leaning away from Clint and tugging her foot out of James' grasp. "Well, okay, then," she said, trying to be casual about it, and knowing that she was failing. "Good talk. This has been great and thank you both for being great bros. I owe you both so many cookies. Let me know what kind you want and I'll just-- I'm just going to go now…"

Clint didn't try to hold onto her -- because of course he wouldn't, he wasn't the kind of guy who would hold onto a woman against her will -- and Darcy managed to get to her feet without either of them interrupting her. Score! Now she just had to get out of the room and it would be okay. She could get a latte and some pastries and hug the memory of being held close to her. If she could just get out of here before she spoiled it by forcing them into rejecting her when they inevitably caught on that she was developing feelings.

She desperately didn't want to be rejected. If she left now, then there might be later conversations and, if she were very very lucky, some cuddles at a future unspecified point in time. Friendship would still be a possibility and they wouldn't have been forced into turning her down, she wouldn't have had it confirmed to her face what she already knew, that she was little more than a starstruck groupie. That to them, like with Steve, she was just another woman hanging around, like any other, not an individual so much as a category or a convenience.

"I've got to go," she told them again, blurting out the words, knowing she sounded awkward and not caring because she had to get out of there right this moment.

Darcy turned to go to the door, but obviously she had missed something in her rush to leave, because now the Winter Soldier was leaning against the closed door, arms folded over his chest, blocking it with a full-on glower.

"I don't think so," he told her.

She squared her chin. "You going to make me scream for help?"

"Nah," he said, then uncrossed his arms and did something that stunned her.

The man who carefully kept distance between himself and everyone else, even his supposed best friend, reached out for her and gathered her to his chest, hugging her. Closely. Intimately.

"I don't know what's going through your head right now," James told her. "But get it out of there. Whatever you're thinking, you're wrong."

"You don't know that," Darcy said weakly, nose buried against the man who smelled of spice and leather and clean laundry. He smelled so good. She almost wanted to sag into his arms and beg him to just let her hold on for a few minutes. A half hour. That would be enough. She could spend the rest of her life imagining that someone this capable, wounded, incredible, skilled, strong, utterly fantasy worthy and completely off limits really wanted her.

Because she'd ruined that with Steve. Had taken him up on his offer, hoping against hope that maybe this time someone saw her, that she, Darcy, was wanted and not just a girl-shaped toy.

"I've got to go," she repeated. "You have to let me go. I'll fuck this up. I fuck everything up. I fucked up Captain America and I'll fuck up the team and…"

Another pair of arms encircling her cut her off, as Clint came up from behind, a hard press of oh-so-necessary warmth against her back.

Even though she knew she shouldn't, she felt safe and wanted and she couldn't stand it anymore.

"You don't want me. You can't want me. You can have anyone. You don't even know who I am. Please. Please don't do this."

"Aw, Darcy, no," Clint said, dropping his head to her shoulder. His voice rumbled directly into her ear, making her shiver. So good. So perfect. So not something she could have. "I don't know what you think we're going to do to you, but stop. You're fine. Well, not fine, obviously, because you've got shit for self-esteem, but you've really got the wrong idea about us."

"Not gonna hurt you." James dipped his head, long brown locks falling down to caress the sides of her face. "Don't know why you think we're something special. We're both killers, we both got blood on our hands. Not good people."

"Coulson called me a walking disaster area," Clint confided. "Nat wasn't as polite."

"First time I touched someone on purpose since, y'know," James added. "Can't say what might set me off, might make me hurt someone without even thinking about it. Probably shouldn't be touching you now. Wouldn't have 'cept it would've hurt you more if I didn't."

"I'm a circus brat who barely scraped through a GED after SHIELD gave me the ultimatum that I either started working for them or they took care of me permanently."

"Kid with no prospects from Brooklyn who didn't even make officer living off of someone else's dime, no skills other than killing people."

Darcy sniffled, but didn't reply.

"So we're no prizes either," Clint told her. "Steve fucked with your head, sweetheart. I get that, *we* get that. And after he heals up from Thor kicking his ass, I'm going to do it and then Barnes gets what's left over."

A huff proclaimed that James disagreed with the archer. "You get what's left over. I got dibs."

"Anyway. Whatever you want, Darce, it's yours. You truly are special. I know who leaves the home-cooked meals with my name on it in the fridge."

"You always smile at me," James offered. "You give me space, but you make room for me. You ask me what I want every time I'm in the room when you're picking out a movie or making food even when I don't say anything back."

"Like I said, we see you. And I like what I see."

"Me too."

"So give us a chance. It's not like I've got much to offer." Clint's arms flexed around Darcy as he shrugged. "I'm no good at relationships and I'm never around and most of the time I'm hiding away from people."

She heard what they were saying. What they were admitting. Clint understood. Both of them did. Now she just needed to show them that she understood too.

Resting her head on Clint's shoulder, Darcy looked backward and up to meet his eyes. "But you still watch them because you want to be a part of things," Darcy completed.

His mouth twisted and he closed his eyes.

She'd hurt him with that, she could tell. He was uncomfortable with the admission. By way of apology, she said, "Maybe I see too much too."

"I like that about you," James told her, even as Clint rubbed his cheek against hers, acknowledging her apology and telling her wordlessly that he forgave her.

Darcy let herself relax, tension draining out of her all at once, leaving her feeling boneless. They understood. They accepted her. She slumped against James, letting the two men hold her up. "Okay. I don't know what I'm agreeing to. I don't know where this is going or if it's going anywhere. But I believe you. And I'm pathetic enough to say yes."

"Not pathetic," James replied.

"Not at all," Clint said, and kissed her temple. "Not even in the slightest."


	2. Let's Talk About Sex, Baby

They'd made it to someplace private, namely Darcy's suite. It was smaller than that allocated to the Avengers, but still essentially a small, luxurious apartment as befitted a place owned by Tony Stark. Neither man felt comfortable leaving Darcy alone yet and Darcy seemed equally unwilling to tell either of them to leave. Which was fine. Clint didn't mind. The way he felt right now, he'd be spending the night camped out nearby anyway, if not on her couch, then in the ceiling.

They were seated on that couch right now. The topic had come around to sex. It had started with why Darcy wasn't at fault for the mess with Rogers, but quickly devolved from there.

"I like being held by a guy," Darcy said. "The weight of the body and the warmth, it's comforting, y'know? It feels good. And I like being sexually appreciated. That feels good too. As long as it's honest. Not sleazy. But the sex itself, I don't care about it."

"Why's that? What don't you like? If you had to put it into words."

"I understand that guys get turned on and if you turn them on, you have a responsibility to get them off--"

"Aww, Darcy-girl. No."

"But even though I like full body contact, I don't like being held down and made to lie there for twenty minutes or however long it takes for the guy to get off. I mean, yeah, I'm allowed to 'enjoy myself'--" Eye roll. "Not that there's anything to enjoy and I'm supposed to do things to get him off, like make noises and squeeze his dick and stuff, but…"

"But you're not turned on." No surprise there.

"Nope. Not even a little. I'm supposed to be overwhelmed by the power of the mighty penis and super horny for it. And I'm not. Which is weird, because when I am turned on, I'm a major slut. I'll do anything. Like stripping and crawling around and sucking cock and… anything active that doesn't involve lying down and being expected to be a receptacle for sperm."

She stopped, not looking up, as though she were ashamed of her "abnormality". "I know that's not what guys -- what you -- what anyone would expect and I know what I want and the way I am ruins a sexual relationship. So I can't have one. With you or anyone else. Because I fuck it up. And I'm sorry. To have led you on. To make you care. Because I can't give you what you want and I know I shouldn't cling on and act like your girlfriend or do anything like that when I don't want sex, but I don't. I'm sorry."

"I'm going to kill him," Barnes growled.

"It wasn't Steve," Darcy protested. "I wouldn't give you details about somebody you know. And if it was just one guy, I could write it off. But they've all been like that. They like it when I want to cuddle, and then the appreciation of the bodies start and I'm okay with that. It's nice being approved of, that they think you're worth something. I even get turned on by that. And then I get all slutty. Which they don't mind. Then it goes to the lying down part and…" she shrugged.

Clint had to ask. "The lying down part?"

"You know, when the woman lies on her front or her back and the guy just goes to town? A little leg positioning if they're kinky or their dick hangs one way or the other, but basically that's it. No more effort required on the guy's part because he's already got what he wants and it's up to you whether you want to pretend to like him basically doing pushups on top of you or not."

He closed his eyes. He couldn't even.

Darcy took the pause as invitation to continue. "After a while, after the first few times, it's all just the lying down part. They stop wanting to cuddle, and the other stuff… it just feels weird, like they're not actually into me wanting to be… wanting whatever it is that I want when I'm being slutty."

Clint wanted to run his hand through his hair. Anything to physically express his frustration with this conversation. "Darcy, no guy is ever going to object to a woman he's sleeping with wanting sex."

"Oh, sure, you *say* that. But when they just want to jump to the fucking, it doesn't feel right to do the stuff I wanted to do. Like, it's a turn on being naked when the guy is clothed, but..."

He didn't hear what she said next. His attention was completely consumed by the tightness in his pants. The images. All the images.

"...I had to put the words in his mouth, which no, not a turn on, and he used this fake voice. It was all like, 'I am sexy Batman'."

She growled the statement in an over-the-top sleazy way that made Clint cringe.

"He couldn't have made it any more obvious that it wasn't his thing. I mean, he *said* he was into anything that turned me on, but yeah. Just another thing guys say." She looked sad. "I guess I'm into being humiliated? That's what I used to fantasize to anyway when… y'know. When I get myself off or if they offer. But I don't really care enough about getting off to do all of that. I know I'm broken."

Clint felt he deserved a nomination to sainthood for not disappearing into the bathroom right now. "Darcy, you know that's not… that it shouldn't work that way. That sex isn't supposed to be like that."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah," she drawled. "I know. I just got finished telling you how I do it all wrong."

Clint turned, putting his knee up on the cushion so that he could catch her hands, thumbs stroking over her wrists. "Not you. You're fine. What they did was wrong."

She scoffed, but didn't pull her hands away, turning to face him and drawing her legs up until she was sitting crosslegged on the couch. "Yeah, heard that before too. In romance novels and stuff. Fictional guys who only want what you want and who will put up with blue balls. Real life isn't like that. Don't try to tell me it is, because I know better. I know how it works. Men want to get off and that's fine. It's something that happens and I choose not to deal with that and that's why I can't have relationships because I'm not willing to hold up my end of the bargain."

Another weight settled at her back, Barnes enveloping her, slowly moving in to give her time to object. When she didn't, he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I really shouldn't let you do that," Darcy said, but relaxed into his hold anyway before sighing. "You two need to go. I'm not… I can't -- it'll wreck things if we -- can't I just have this? Remember this like it is? Without spoiling it with all the sex stuff?"

Tears were dripping down the Winter Soldier's face, Clint noted. He felt a little like doing so himself, except crying wasn't something he did anymore.

"Darcy, sweetheart. You. Are. Fine. You are perfectly normal. You like being held and touched. You're sexually responsive and active. You crave and enjoy affection along with your sex. You want to be in control. That's easy."

She snorted, a small scoffing sound. "Nope. Tried that. I'm too top heavy to ride a guy during sex. And it takes too long. I mean, it worked. It worked just fine to get me off, but," she shrugs. "It's like oral sex. It's wet and disgusting down there and I'm not going to make anyone do something they're turned off by. It turns me off knowing that they think those things at all."

Clint couldn't think of anything to say to that. It was obvious to him that these were things her previous partners had told her, which she had taken as facts. Too top heavy? Did she think his muscles were for show? And disgusting? Being chained face down in your drying vomit was disgusting. Eating it even worse. He'd been in situations where he'd had to do both in order to survive and probably would again. Compared to sex with Darcy? He couldn't find the words.

"You've known some really shitty guys, doll."

"They're all like that."

Clint bent his neck, lowering his head so that he could kiss one of her hands, then the other. "We're not." If they were, there was no way they would have made it this far.

She stiffened. "Yeah," she whispered. Bitter regret tinged the muttered words. "You say that now."

Clint could hear in her tone the implied, 'Of course you say that. You want in my pants.' Her posture, the way she was ducking her head, the twist of her lips. They were eloquent.

"I'm saying it because it's true. That's not the way it's supposed to work."

She huffed a breath. "That's the way it *does* work though."

Clint looked up at Barnes. When he caught the other man's eyes, he let his sorrow and frustration show. He wanted so badly to make this right for her, but he couldn't tell her to trust him or that he wouldn't lie to her -- she couldn't, he would, and they both knew it. That he could be trusted about this particular subject and wasn't lying right now was irrelevant. He wasn't trustworthy. Hell, if *Captain America* had lied to her, then there was no way she was going to believe an ex-carnie assassin. And she shouldn't.

Barnes nodded to him. Clint read understanding in the other man's eyes and felt relieved.

"Doll, it ain't supposed to be like that. You don't take dames for granted."

That brought Darcy's eyes back up. Barnes spoke so rarely and he never did for anything he didn't find important. Clint wasn't even sure that the former Winter Soldier even knew how to lie. It seemed like the kind of thing Hydra would have tried to get rid of at all costs.

"He's right," Clint told her, squeezing her fingers, grateful that the other man had found a way to reach her. "Yeah, you're not wrong either. It's more work to make sure that you're into it too. Especially doing it every time. And you're not wrong that most guys see affection as a means to an end and don't bother with it if they don't have to."

Blue eyes stared into his. "So guys are assholes, that's what you're saying?"

"Well…" he grimaced. "You're not wrong about that either. But speaking as a guy, most sex isn't with someone you care about. When you're paying for it or doing it in a rundown room with someone you don't even know, It's about sticking it in and getting off. It's actually the preferred method."

She seemed to accept that, pursing her lips and nodding slightly. "So what's wrong with me then?" Her tone was resigned. "Is it that I'm too easy? Or is it the boobs? It's always the boobs."

Clint shook his head. "Nothing's wrong with you or what you want." Nothing at all. Not a single damn thing.

"So why are all the men in my life assholes then? If it's not me. Why?"

He scooted forward and embraced her. His hands wouldn't fit around her shoulders because Barnes was already pressed closely against her, but he drew as near to her as he could. "I'm not going to tell you I'm good at relationships. I'm not going to tell you that I could make it work, because I can't. I've fucked up too many times for that. But, sweetheart, if it were you and me and we didn't work out, it would never be because of the sex."

Darcy laughed, and Clint felt better. And then she started crying.

Fuck.

"Aw, Darcy, no."


	3. Nocturne

The dark haired woman fell asleep between the two snipers while still seated upright on the couch.

James knew he would have no problem bearing her weight until she woke up, but after a few hours in the position, she would be uncomfortable. He didn't want her to be uncomfortable.

Making a decision, he pulled her closer to him, then stood up, cradling her to his chest.

Barton stood as well. The archer didn't ask him what he was doing, didn't utter any unnecessary questions or comments. James approved of that. No need for extra words and explanations when the reason for his actions lay obvious in his arms.

The blonde slipped ahead of him and his burden, opening the door to the bedroom, then entering to pull back the covers from the bed before taking a seat, waiting for the hand off.

James set Darcy down on the edge of the bed, leaning her back into Barton's arms. While the other man held her up, he knelt and removed her shoes, then unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down her legs.

Barton raised an eyebrow at him for that, but didn't object out loud. James preferred that; he wasn't quite sure where the instinct was coming from that told him to get Darcy comfortable before settling her into bed and couldn't have defended his actions. He just knew that this was what you did when you put someone -- a dame, no, not a dame, but rather a beloved younger woman? -- to bed. Someone you wouldn't even think of taking advantage of. Maybe someone he'd known? It just felt right, like working together silently with Barton to undress Darcy felt right. Like he'd done it before in better times.

When he was done, James got to his feet, and reached for Darcy again. She wrinkled her nose, but was pliant as the two men maneuvered her into bed. Crying had left her exhausted, at the end of her resources.

When they'd both retreated from the bed, Barton hesitated at its side.

James raised an eyebrow and Barton cocked his head toward the sleeping girl in a silent inquiry.

He knew what Barton was asking. Did he want to stay? Should either of them stay? If it were any other guy, James would have dragged him out of the room for even asking, then decked him in the hall where Darcy wouldn't hear anything.

But Barton wasn't any other guy. The two of them had something in common, both in their choice of profession and in the care shown tonight to the woman peacefully sleeping beside them. James felt a kinship for the blonde human disaster. It was hard to see the other man as a threat, especially not with the bandage still across his nose from the incident James witnessed this morning. The half-asleep archer had wandered into the kitchen of the common room in search of his morning pot of coffee. This was routine, as was Barton's habit of drinking directly out of the coffee pot along with burning his tongue. Unfortunately, the combination of Barton, the hot coffee, a roomba and Steve cooking eggs on the stove had resulted in Barton on his back, having taken a frying pan to his nose and a pot of coffee to the groin. James had seen the whole thing and he still wasn't sure what had happened. One moment, business as normal, the next moment, chaos.

It reminded him of something, of someone else who was always dinged up from getting into scrapes.

So he didn't clock Barton, but jerked his head toward the bed, indicating that the other man should stay, then brushed his own chest and pointed toward the door to indicate his own course of action. One of them inside with the dame, the other outside to keep anyone from causing a disturbance.

Barton nodded in acceptance, then held up a finger asking him to wait.

James rolled his eyes as the archer took off for the bathroom. Figured.

Neither man had made a sound, but James' glance narrowed immediately on Darcy as she shivered, likely from the temperature difference between their body heat and the coolness of the bed.

Her bleary eyes blinked at him. He read a plea in her sapphire gaze, but when he didn't move, her eyes dulled. Something clenched inside his chest. It was obvious that she thought she had been abandoned.

Untrue. Holding his finger to his lips, he glanced meaningfully in the direction of the bathroom.

Barton was both quiet and discreet, but some sounds were immistakable. James' mouth picked up in an almost invisible smile as Darcy grinned at him.

When he heard Barton returning, he took his finger back and gave Darcy a look. Darcy's eyes sparkled before she closed them again.

James lingered long enough to see Barton re-enter the room, remove his shoes and climb into the other side of the bed. The archer turned on his side to face James, then jerked his head at him, letting him know he could go.

Satisfied that Darcy would be taken care of, James retreated to his post in the other room. Acute hearing picked up a few muttered words, "Hey" and "Is this okay?" and then nothing other than relaxed breathing.

He himself would not be sleeping, but then, he rarely slept. When he did, it usually ended in nightmares after a few brief hours of unconsciousness.

Preventing interruptions so that Darcy could get a good night's sleep was more important. He decided he would stay until 5 a.m., when Steve usually left the tower for his morning jog. After that, it should be safe until Darcy woke again.

He had some thinking to do.


	4. Maybe It's An Omake, Maybe It's Maybelline

**S.H.I.E.L.D. Internal Memo**

**To:** N. Fury  
**Fm:** P. Coulson  
**Re:** Summary of AAR 51-WE7-D

 **Incident:**  
T. Odinson's account of the events between himself, S. Rogers and J. Foster

 **Reference Material:**  
Transcripts and video of Odinson's account and the original incidents.

 **Summary:**  
25,376 words (redacted) of _The Tale of Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard and His Defeat of His Mighty But Dishonorable Foe, the Captain of America_. 

Synopsis: Odinson was watching TV with D. Lewis. Rogers entered and said something to Lewis which Odinson did not understand. Lewis said something Odinson also didn't understand, then left crying, which he did understand. Odinson realized that something offensive was said and confessed guilt for not understanding. Odinson rebuked Rogers for making Lewis cry, then questioned him about what he said and failed to understand what he said again. Odinson asked Jarvis whether T. Stark was available. Stark arrived. Odinson then told Stark what happened. Neither Stark nor Rogers understood Odinson. Odinson threatened Rogers, but Rogers refused to tell his side of events. Interrogation, followed by threats, then violent interrogation and immobilization of Rogers via Mjolnir. Incident recording replayed by Jarvis accompanied by comments from Stark which Odinson did not understand. Odinson smote Rogers. Stark suggested getting P. Potts, N. Romanov and B. Banner involved. All individuals unavailable. Odinson suggested Foster. Foster was asleep. Further smiting of Rogers. Odinson demanded Rogers apologize to Lewis. Lewis was asleep. Further threats made and Rogers dropped off in Medical. Odinson and Stark feast mightily. Odinson's soliloquy on their noble victory over their foe. Odinson's ode to pop tarts.

5,994 words (redacted) of the first portion of _The Ballad of Lady Jane And Her Triumph Over The_ Rat Bastard. [Original description of subject blacked out. Rat bastard scribbled next to it in purple ink.]

Synopsis: Odinson and Foster confronted Rogers. Foster threatened Rogers. (See re: Intimidation Tactics)

[Doodle in purple ink of male genitalia being penetrated by an exploding arrow.]


	5. Ears To Hear

The next afternoon saw Clint hiding in the vents above the kitchen, watching Darcy prepare food as she danced along, presumably to music supplied by Jarvis as he saw no sign of her infamous iPod. He'd woken up that morning to the smell of coffee and no Darcy. She'd left a pot of coffee for him and departed. Her pillow had already grown cold.

He kicked himself for his habit of sleeping deeply when in residence at the tower, disappointed at missing her. Once again, she'd managed to take care of him without him getting a chance to express his appreciation. He really wanted to do that. Catch her in the act, let her see how much he meant his thanks and make sure she knew he meant it.

He'd checked in and found her in the laboratory with Foster, behaving normally, as carefree as if yesterday had never happened. Hovering over Foster, feeding her chunks of a pop tart. The text Jarvis sent to his phone told him that Stark and Thor were currently asleep, Banner in the lab, Nat still out of the tower, and Rogers in Medical. As usual, Barnes had privacy mode engaged and Jarvis would not give out his location.

Clint didn't know what he was supposed to do and, lacking direction, had gone about his normal morning routine. However, even time at the range couldn't keep him from thinking about Darcy and he'd returned to keep watch over her. It had briefly occurred to him to simply go down and talk to her, but he didn't know what to say or if he even should. Whether it would be better to let her come to him. To them.

It also gave him time to figure her out.

Now that he knew what he was looking at, Clint could put a name to Darcy's behavior. She was trying to foster connection. Her flirting with Tony, her mothering of Banner and Foster, her cuddling with Thor, the hesitant back-and-forth overtures with himself and Barnes. All of it done to get closer to them.

It pained him to see it.

Because after the incident with The Rat Bastard, he knew there was an edge of desperation to it that didn't need to be there. As if Darcy didn't realize how much they appreciate her in return. He wouldn't have thought it was possible; how could such a warm person give so much if she didn't have that foundation of security to give from? And yet, she didn't.

She didn't and now he sees her ubiquitous sweaters as what they were, attempts to wrap comfort and touch around her. 

The conclusion was obvious, the solution less so.

Not for the first time, he wished he still had Coulson in his ear, calling the shot, telling him the move to make. Lying in the vents, watching this, Clint was tensed for action, but without knowing what to aim for… yeah.

The only thing he was certain of is that if he didn't get off his ass and soon, Barnes was going to go all Winter Soldier on him. And Clint would rather avoid that, thank you very much.

The thing is, he had no idea what he wanted to do. What the end goal was here. He knew what he didn't want -- he didn't want Darcy to get hurt and he didn't want to be anything like Ste-- The Rat Bastard, but other than that? His mind was a complete blank.

On the other hand, he's not precisely known for good life decisions.

He'd just decided to drop down into the kitchen and greet Darcy, who was partway through making a batch of cinnamon rolls when The Rat Bastard entered the kitchen.

The overly muscled blonde stopped at the doorway when he caught sight of Darcy in the kitchen. For a moment, Clint thought that Steve would do the smart thing and retreat, but instead the other man steeled himself and stepped forward.

Clint's hands fisted. He still hadn't had his chance to explain things to the captain. It looked like this was going to be it.

He dropped from the ceiling.

Darcy didn't see him, but Rogers did. Immediately, The Rat Bastard stilled and glared at Darcy.

Clint didn't have his ears in; they were necessary for his job, but wearing them constantly caused pain. Everyone responsible for making them or making him wear them assured him that it was psychological, that the aids didn't cause damage to his ears or eardrums, but Clint was the one feeling the pain and damn it, he doesn't need more when he can do perfectly well without them. And after sleeping with them in last night, he can't bear to wear them today. Which, of course, was when he needed them the most.

Fortunately Steve was facing him, so Clint could read his lips easily.

"When are you going to call off your attack dogs?"

Darcy didn't look up from the cinnamon and sugar mixture she was combining. Clint could tell that she'd said something, most likely defensive and flippant as her posture had changed to one of defiance, but her breathing had sped up and her mouth had tightened.

Steve gestured at Clint. Clint scowled back, but Rogers didn't get the hint. Still addressing Darcy, the captain said "You don't belong here."

"Shut up," Clint growled. He wished he had his bow. Not that he could kill Captain America, but the man was a super soldier, right? He'd heal.

Darcy looked up as Clint spoke, startlement in her gaze. She relaxed minutely upon seeing him.

Rogers' expression tightened, then The Rat Bastard committed the ultimate sin, as he took it physical by grabbing her by the shoulder and turning her to face him. "Thor. Stark. Now him. You got some nerve playing the victim here."

Darcy flinched.

Clint was on him immediately, forcing Rogers' hand loose with a painful pinch of the nerves. He shoved the captain backward, moving Darcy gently but firmly behind him as Clint slid between the two.

He could tell Darcy had said something, was saying something, as she slapped at his shoulder indignantly, but the impact was minor and it felt more like a pro forma protest than outrage at him specifically, so he ignored it.

The Rat Bastard was more important anyway. "Back off, Rogers. You don't touch her."

Rogers scowled and addressed Darcy over Clint's shoulder. "Slept with him too? Who's next, Stark?"

Clint couldn't hear Darcy's response if she made one, but he felt her hand fist into the back of his shirt and knew that had hit home. He silently cursed Rogers for unwittingly guessing part of the truth. Nothing had happened and the accusation was baseless, but Clint could tell that the sliver of fact wedged in there had hurt her.

Punching him would hurt Clint's hand more than The Rat Bastard's face. Anything effective would start a no holds barred fight, and he didn't want to do that with Darcy in harm's way.

That limited his options. He couldn't shut Rogers up, couldn't extract Darcy and he needed backup. He could get the team here via Jarvis, but he didn't know how much of this Darcy wanted made public. From what Rogers had said earlier, it sounded like at least some of it was already known, but Clint wanted to avoid a full-on confrontation until he could find out how Darcy wanted to handle it.

Once again, he wished Coulson were here.

A shadow shifted and Clint felt relieved as Barnes melted out of it, stepping soundlessly into the kitchen.

They had a second to silently allocate responsibility before Rogers jerked and turned to face Barnes. Clint hadn't given Barnes away and Barnes hadn't made a sound, so--

Shit. Darcy must have gasped when she saw Barnes. To be fair, the other man had slipped entirely into Winter Soldier mode, which could intimidate anyone, much less a civilian.

Still Rogers turning around did create an opportunity. As Barnes diverted The Rat Bastard's attention, Clint backed up slowly, hoping Darcy would move with him and not attract Rogers' attention. His first shuffling step caught her off-guard, pressing her softness tantalizingly against his back, but she moved with him after that, her other hand joining the one already clinging to his shirt.

As soon as there was sufficient room, Barnes made certain that any noise Darcy might make was irrelevant by punching Rogers in the face with his metal hand.

Yeah. That looked like it got The Rat Bastard's attention.

Clint turned and captured Darcy's hands in his. "Ssh," he told her. "We need to get you out of here. This is going to get messy."

Eyes wide with shock met his. "This is my fault. I have to stop him."

The emotions he read in her expression made his heart hurt. "Sweetheart, there's nothing you can do. Once he put his hands on you, he was getting his ass kicked."

"But… I can't… They can't… this isn't right. They're friends. They shouldn't be fighting because of me." She still had not turned around, continuing to face him as he walked her toward the elevator, her eyes darting nervously over his shoulder to the confrontation behind him.

"You're wrong about that," he told her, trying to will her to read the truth in his gaze. "You heard him last night. Barnes wants to do this. It's his choice."

White teeth drew down, cutting into a plump lower lip. "I don't want James to get hurt because of me."

"You're worried about *Barnes*?" Clint asked incredulously. He snorted, then started laughing. "Don't worry about him. He's been looking forward to this. If you're going to worry, worry about the kitchen. Stark's going to need a new one by the time Barnes gets done."

"Oh." She bit her lip again, but relaxed into his grip, which allowed him to finally turn her around.

Clint regretted moving her to face away from him. For all that he approved of her not seeing the super soldiers fight each other, it meant that he couldn't see her mouth and read what she was saying.

And if he couldn't tell what she was saying, he couldn't make sure that she wasn't blaming herself for this mess.

She had been the catalyst, sure, but if The Rat Bastard wasn't a bigoted narrow-minded possessive asshole, then there wouldn't have been a problem.

The elevator door opened as they approached it, Jarvis as alert as always to the needs of the tower's residents. Clint took Darcy's shoulders to still her, then kissed the back of her head. She stiffened, mouth moving, but his view was blocked by her hair and the angle of her head. "Sorry, don't have my ears in. Can't hear anything you're saying."

Darcy tried to shrug out of his hold, but he put a little more pressure into his grip, not enough to hurt her, but enough to let her know he wanted her to stay where she was for the moment. "I've gotta go. Things to do, people to punch. You know. See you later?"

This time when she tried to face him, he let her go.

Tears stood in her eyes.

"Aw, Darcy, no," he said, reaching out to brush them off her cheek. "Don't."

She didn't stop him, instead reaching up to cover his hand before squeezing it and releasing him.

"Later," Darcy said, then rested her hands on his shoulder for a brief second, long enough to press a light kiss to his lips.

When the elevator door closed behind her, Clint was still standing there. His hand reached up and touched the place her lips had touched.

"Damn."

Then he shook himself and, whistling cheerfully, went to see if Barnes had left any of The Rat Bastard for him.


	6. Excerpts from AAR 51-WEL-D

****

**[Report of Captain Rogers]  
** **Page 2  
** Upon termination of my liaison with the subject, I observed that this was part of a pattern of behavior on the part of the subject. The subject engaged in promiscuous actions with each of the members of the Avengers Initiative on multiple occasions…

****

**Page 3  
** I witnessed six incidents of the subject receiving, making and/or accepting offers for sexual intercourse with Stark, who is in a committed relationship…

****

**Page 4  
** …despite repeated warnings that this behavior could trigger both Banner and Barnes, the subject continued to seek physical contact with both individuals.

…while no contact was observed between the subject and Barton, meals labelled with Barton's name in the subject's handwriting appeared in the common room refrigerator on multiple occasions. This behavior suggested that contact had occurred unobserved…

****

**Page 7  
** …made a critical tactical error in confronting the subject while the subject was engaged in physical intimacy with Odinson. The subject produced an unexpected emotional reaction and escaped while Odinson prevented pursuit. The relationship between the subject and Odinson had previously been assessed as platonic; however, events show…

****

**Page 23  
** …after release from Medical at 8:34 a.m., I resumed pursuit of the subject. I requested the subject's location from Jarvis. After determining that she was in the kitchen on floor 46 of Stark Tower, I placed the floor on lockdown until I arrived, to be lifted only upon my exit. My intention was to engage the subject in questioning to ascertain the subject's overall motives as well as involvement in the events of February 23 while preventing the subject from retreating from the questioning.

****

**Page 24  
** …when I physically restrained the subject, Barton intervened…

…was attempting negotiation with Barton regarding the subject when Barnes revealed his presence. Both men had been concealed from view at the time of my entry, indicating possible collusion with the subject on their part. Barnes initiated a physical confrontation which allowed Barton to escort the subject from the room. Upon Barton's return, blows were exchanged. Minor injuries were inflicted, including a dislocated shoulder, before a further blow rendered me unconscious.

****

**Page 25  
** …I regained consciousness in Dr. Foster's laboratory. I was seated in a chair and restrained by the presence of Mjolnir resting on my thighs. My shoulder had been set. Odinson and Dr. Foster were the only individuals present. Dr. Foster presented her views on the subject's behavior…


	7. The Ballad Of Lady Jane And Her Triumph Over The Rat Bastard

Jane was not happy. When Jane was not happy, Science! did not get done, which made her even unhappier.

Fortunately, since Darcy had entered her life, this situation had become correctable. Jane had had many opportunities to be unhappy, what with Shield confiscating her research, the Destroyer, Thor vanishing, *London*, and so on, but Darcy had been there, providing ice cream, a handy shoulder and tequila as necessary.

Now Darcy needed her and Jane intended to be there for her.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked the man restrained in Darcy's usual chair. The man who was the reason for Darcy's unhappiness and thus Jane's. "Do you have any idea?"

Captain America raised his chin. "I've only done what's necessary to protect the team. Your attachment to Miss Lewis is…"

"Darcy is the only reason I haven't asked Thor to have you taken to Asgard and thrown in the dungeon," Jane snapped.

He was nearly as tall sitting down as she was standing up, but the captain still shut up.

Jane was not going to stop until Steve Rogers understood the error of her ways, and if she had to use every ounce of fury at the male establishment that she'd built up over years of being patronized by men like him, she was going to do so.

"This is your fault from start to finish. But, in the interests of fairness--" and the better to puncture every last one of his erroneous assumptions, "I'll let you try to explain just exactly what you thought you were doing. From the beginning."

"The beginning?"

"Yes. When you decided that it would be a good idea to ask Darcy on a date."

From the expression on his face, that was not the beginning he had in mind. Jane didn't care. For her, the mess had started when Darcy had confessed to being a teensy weensy bit attracted to Steve Rogers. "I'd climb him like a tree," had been her exact phrasing. Anyone else would have taken that as evidence that Darcy welcomed the overt sexuality of the subsequent relationship, but Jane had the honor of seeing past Darcy's smart mouth and sometimes brash exterior and knew that her former intern would never have made the move to take things past the platonic. The offer, certainly. But words were different than actions.

Steve looked mulish, but Jane didn't back down.

"Fine!" he said at last. The sulky expression he assumed would have looked more appropriate on the face of a toddler. "I recognized her as someone who assisted Stark and the others. She was always around, smiling and starting conversations about culture and current events. She was the one who offered to introduce me to modern media -- I didn't ask her to do it."

"You said yes though, didn't you?"

"Better her than Stark," he admitted grudgingly. "She was at least honest about it. And she explained the things that didn't make sense. I couldn't tell the difference between Stark making things up and deliberately trying to confuse me with the truth. I thought I could trust her."

Thor shifted uneasily behind him and Jane shot him a look to keep him quiet. To properly cut someone off at the knees, you had to let them walk into the wet cement first.

"And she let you down?"

"No." Captain America, who never backed down from the Nazis, avoided the gaze of a civilian half his size. "She never made fun of me. But I wouldn't have gotten it in my head to ask her on a date if she hadn't been so forward."

When he didn't continue, Jane prompted him. "Forward how?"

"Touching me. Brushing herself against me. Putting ideas in my head."

"How scandalous," Jane said dryly.

He narrowed his lips. "She knew I grew up with different standards. And she said yes when I did the right thing and offered to take her out."

"You did the right thing, hmm? What was your alternative?"

The tips of his ears went red. "She was the one who told me about the third date rule. I wasn't the one moving fast."

Jane nodded. "So of course you told her that you weren't comfortable with moving that speed and asked her to slow things down."

His cheeks were flushed now, more with anger than embarrassment. "No," he said. It sounded sullen. "I didn't."

"So when an ordinary girl gets swept off her feet by a dashing war hero and finds out that he desires her physically, it's her fault that she says yes when he decides he wants that from her?" Jane narrowed her eyes at him, daring him to claim that it had been Darcy who initiated the sexual side of their relationship.

He surprised her. "Ladies aren't supposed to act like that," he said defensively. "A real lady would have held back more. Let me court her. The kind of girls who let you fool around, they aren't…" he trailed off.

Jane gave him a thin smile. "Yes? They aren't what?"

"They aren't the kind you bring home to your mother." He looked up at her, a defiant gleam in his eyes. "Buck was always bringing back girls like that. A new gal every weekend. A dame who lets you treat her like that, she isn't a lady."

"So you think that justifies your behavior?"

"I told you, she was the one who brought up the third date rule. I only did what she wanted me to. You're acting like I forced her. I would never treat any woman like that. Never." His tone was adamant.

"But it was still her responsibility for putting the idea into your head, even though you initiated the sexual relationship?"

"She told you?"

Jane smiled again. It wasn't a friendly smile. "Girl talk. You understand. I heard all about it. You inviting her back to your place. Offering wine. Kissing her. Undressing her. The whole thing."

He reddened again. "You're acting like she had nothing to do with it."

"Oh, I'm sure she did have something to do with it. I'm not discounting her part in the proceedings. I'm simply more interested in what you were thinking. I already know her side of the story."

The sullen look returned. "Then let me go. I'm not going to say anymore about what happened between us. A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell."

A smile like a shark answered him. "A gentleman would have treated Darcy like a lady regardless. You are no gentleman."

"Agreed," Thor rumbled.

Jane shot the god a quelling look before returning her attention to Steve. She didn't need help. "Apparently you aren't very good in bed either. Ever heard of foreplay? Consideration for your partner's needs? From what Darcy told me, your technique consisted of fondling her breasts before sticking it in and thrusting, then rolling off and saying good night."

"There was more to it than that!" he blurted out. "I helped her do her thing."

"Do her thing," she said slowly. "How romantic."

"She didn't want romance!"

"Really? And how do you know this? Did you ask her?"

The indignation bled out of him, leaving the sulky toddler behind. "No. But I didn't need to. She'd already practically let me know that she expected sex after the third date. She didn't exactly say no either."

Jane snorted and shook her head. "You have a lot to learn about the 21st century. I pity the next woman who runs into you."

"I treat ladies just fine."

If she thought slapping him would help, Jane would have done it. She wasn't a violent person, but right then, she was tempted. "There's something called a Madonna/whore complex. You should read up on it. It's all about men like you, double standards and why any sane woman stays well away from men who think like that."

"A what?"

"Read up on it in your own time." Jane felt tired. As much as she wanted to get through to him that it was his attitude that had caused the problem, she'd spent too much of her life dealing with the backward attitudes of men like this. She wouldn't bother, except that this one at least had the excuse of being from a different decade. And if Captain America, paragon of virtue and American ideal that he was, wasn't educable, then what hope did mankind have as a whole?

Jane tried again. "Do you understand why she broke up with you?"

He shrugged as though it were of no concern, but his words came out bitter. "At the time, I figured she'd got what she wanted. It wasn't 'til later that I realized what she was up to."

"So you had no part in the break up?"

"No," he said firmly. "I didn't do anything different. There were no arguments, no reason I could see then for her to leave. I didn't want her to go."

"You took her friendly gestures as a sign of advances on you, interpreted her advice as to current dating standards as evidence that she had no morals, then treated her like a whore, withholding affection and intimacy until she gave up on you treating her decently and left -- and you still say you had nothing to do with it?"

Steve's mouth hung open. Weakly, he said, "it wasn't like that."

"Oh, no, Captain Rogers, it was exactly like that. And then you compounded your error by placing the worst interpretation on behaviors that are considered perfectly normal in this day and time. I suspect jealousy played a part in it as well."

"I didn't… I wasn't…"

"Yes?"

"I saw her with Stark. Heard the things they said."

"Yes, because Tony routinely says what he means and is straightforward and decorous in all of his dealings."

"Stark isn't… Are you trying to imply that they weren't serious?" He frowned at her. "Because I can't believe that. No one talks like that and doesn't act on it."

"Really?" Jane gave him a second to reconsider his answer. Apparently he hadn't yet learned to use the brain between his ears instead of the one between his legs. "Jarvis, how many times have Darcy and Tony so much as touched each other? In private or in public?"

"Miss Lewis has never initiated contact with Mr. Stark. Mr. Stark has come into contact with Miss Lewis on two occasions, both by accident."

She raised an eyebrow at Steve. "Your point?"

"They could have engaged privacy mode," Steve defended lamely.

Jane could almost see his self-righteousness crumbling. "Jarvis, has Tony ever engaged privacy mode with Darcy in the room or vice versa?"

The AI responded immediately. "Never."

Steve recouped quickly, brushing that off and ignoring the point she'd made. "She shouldn't be provoking Banner or Bucky. Darcy's always touching them. If Banner's heart rate goes up, it could bring out the Hulk. And Bucky's not ready for the kind of relationship that Darcy's looking for."

Jane just shook her head. "I didn't realize that policing the Avengers' relationships was part of your job description. I think that, if I brought that to their attention, they would disagree with you, probably violently."

He winced. She smiled viciously. He obviously remembered what the rest of the team had done to him and it didn't look like he wanted to repeat that experience any time soon.

Jane continued. "I also think it's obvious by now that you have no idea what kind of relationship Darcy is looking for. If you paid the slightest bit of attention, you would know that Darcy respects people's personal space. Yes, she's touchy with people who let her in, but *unlike you*, she's would never take advantage of someone else for her own benefit, nor would she treat them like her personal possession if she were involved with them."

Steve bristled. "How can you say that when I caught her publicly embracing your own fella? The way she was pressing up against him was lewd."

"First of all, can you even hear yourself? It was *Darcy*'s fault that *she* was touching *Thor*? It wasn't in any part Thor's fault?"

His mouth opened and closed. "I…"

"Blaming the woman for actions done by both parties is unattractive as well as unacceptable."

"But she works for you. She knows he's yours! She shouldn't be doing that."

"By the same logic, neither should he. Again, people aren't possessions. However, did you bother asking either of them whether that was their intention?"

He flushed again. "No. It was obvious what they were up to."

"Yes. Obvious." Jane turned to Thor. "How dare you do that with Darcy? What were you thinking? Hugging her in public?"

Thor smiled at her. "You know well that, while I have much affection for Lady Darcy, I regard her as my lightning sister, and that nothing nor no one could diminish my regard for you."

Jane turned on Steve. "See? All you had to do was ask. They're like siblings."

"I never saw siblings acting like that," Steve muttered.

"Get it through your head. You are no longer in the 40s. It's a whole new century. Things are different."

Steve shook his head. "Not that different. It's still one guy, one gal. The way she acts isn't normal."

"No, it isn't. These days it's as often Adam and Steve as Adam and Eve."

"Adam and… *Steve*?"

"Look it up. It's not like homosexuality is a new thing."

"I *know* that. What I don't get is what Adam has to do with me."

Jakes bit her lip, shaking her head. No laughing. You can't laugh. Remember what you're here for. "Hopeless. You're hopeless. What I'm trying to get at here is that sexuality and orientation are no longer restricted to rigid definitions. Darcy may be a little touchy-feely and she may act differently than you expect, but she's perfectly normal."

"Her behavior has disrupted the team. She shouldn't be allowed to--"

How one man could be so pig-headed… "No, captain. *Your* behavior has disrupted the team. You were the one who accused Darcy of, how did you put it, 'flitting from team member to team member'. Don't think I didn't look up what a Victory Girl was either. You insulted her in public, bringing up your private business in front of others. And that is not the act of a hero or a gentleman."

He looked stricken. "It wasn't like that. I had genuine concerns…"

"That required calling her names? That required a public confrontation?"

Steve looked down. "No," he said grudgingly. "That was a mistake."

Jane nodded. "It was. It was the act of a jealous ex."

"I'm not-- I wasn't *jealous*… That isn't what I was doing."

"Really?" Jane raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, is that how you would have handled it if you thought she was really trying to break up the team? If you thought she was Hydra or whoever?"

He winced. "No. It isn't."

"It really really wasn't. Your behavior has hurt Darcy and may have done exactly what you accused her of -- hurting the team -- but not because of anything she did, but rather because of your disrespect of other people, particularly women in general and Darcy specifically."

Steve hung his head, looking small for the first time. His shoulders drooped. "I'm not… even if I agree with you, this has still negatively impacted the team."

"Which is why you need to apologize. As well as doing a better job of acclimating to today's society."

"I--"

Jarvis interrupted. "Dr. Foster, Agent Barton has asked me to alert you. He and Sergeant Barnes are unable to locate Miss Lewis after the earlier altercation with Captain Rogers."

Jane's head snapped up. "Darcy's missing?"

"That is his assumption, yes."

"Thor…" Jane began.

"I will join the search immediately."

Steve looked from Thor to Jane, face frantic. "Let me help. This is my fault--"

"Yes, it is." Jane told him, but considered his request nonetheless. The problem as she saw it was partly that Steve still clung onto the mentality he was raised with and partly that he refused to acknowledge that he had been hurt by Darcy leaving him. Their dialogue failed to convince her that he understood either of those factors. "But I don't believe you."

"You don't believe me?"

He did injured innocence well. "No. I don't. I have yet to hear you so much as offer to apologize. You also haven't once accepted any responsibility for what happened or expressed even a single feeling of guilt."

Something that might have been genuine remorse crossed his features. Jane didn't trust it. "Darcy could be in trouble. You can't keep me here when anything could be happening to her."

"Funny how this is the first time you've shown any care for her welfare." Jane shook her head. Had his emotions driven his actions as much as his prejudices? His anxiety for Darcy's welfare seemed real enough.

"Please?" he asked. "I have to do something. If she's hurt and I didn't say anything..."

His stricken expression looked genuine at least.

Jane pursed her lips, considering the matter. "Let him up," she told Thor. "Maybe he'll prove useful. If he doesn't…"

"Then he and I shall have words," Thor promised. "But for now, our priority is the Lady Darcy."

"Exactly."


	8. Ever Hearing But Never Understanding

The elevator doors closed in front of Darcy. She punched the button for the floor Jane's laboratory resided on, but nothing happened.

"Jarvis?" she asked nervously.

"Yes, Miss Lewis?"

That was a relief. For a moment she'd been afraid that someone had attacked the tower and taken Jarvis offline. What? It could happen! So she was a little worked up. She'd just seen her boys pummeling her ex.

Her boys… and wasn't that a loaded term. They weren't boys, they were men. Deadly, sexy, sweet, lovable men. And not hers. Couldn't ever be hers because while she loved them, she loved other people too in much the same way -- she cared for them, would do anything for them, would sleep with any of those she cared for happily -- even if she'd enjoy it more with some than others. Looking at you Clint. What did you call that anyway? There wasn't a term for someone who was romantic with all of her friends, willing to sleep with all of them, but only attracted to some of them. Just another way she was fucked up. They wouldn't ever be hers because she couldn't ever honestly say that she was just theirs. She couldn’t pick between either of them and she knew that her heart could easily accommodate more. She should be grateful that she'd found any at all, not be a greedy slut who wanted more.

"Miss Lewis?"

Jarvis' voice brought her back to reality. "Why aren't we going anywhere?"

"Captain Rogers has placed this floor on lockdown. I cannot conduct anyone to or from this floor until Captain Rogers departs."

"Shitballs."

Now what was she supposed to do? None of the three men currently battling it out in the kitchen would welcome her presence, assuming she felt like getting between them in the first place -- which, no. Not even.

But cowering in the elevator didn't suit her either. For one thing, she had no idea what was going on.

That maybe she could do something about.

"Jarvis, can you show me what's happening out there?"

"I regret that I cannot, Miss Lewis. Mr. Stark has not yet added that functionality to the elevator system."

Now what?

Hmm.

Clint couldn't hear her. Both he and James were occupied with Steve, so neither of them would be watching for her. And the kitchen wasn't the only area of the common floor.

If Jarvis let her out, she could observe from the movie room. That was set up for video and sound. If she closed the door and engaged privacy mode, they'd have no idea she was there. She could watch what was happening and come out when it was all over. Or if they needed her. Not that they would. Hello, superheroes? But it was better than waiting like a trapped animal in the elevator. Anything would be better than that.

She loved it when a plan came together.

"Jarvis, engage privacy mode. I'm going to the movie room. Put the battle royale up on the screen in there. Don't let them know where I am."

"Yes, Miss Lewis."

She pressed the Door Open button and slipped quickly to the side, darting into the hallway. The sounds of grunting, scuffling and hard impacts did not slow and she let her breath out in relief. She hadn't been spotted.

Finding a seat in the outrageously comfy so-called chairs (more like mini couches) that Tony insisted were the only way to watch movies, Darcy locked her eyes on the screen.

A gorgeous bruise bloomed over Steve's face. If he could see out of his right eye, she'd be surprised. Battered around the edges, even she could tell he was losing. Probably didn't want to hurt his darling Bucky. What? Darcy could be the bigger man about their breakup, because she wasn't anyone's damsel in distress and she'd been the one to do the breaking, but she totally reserved the right to give Steve shit about how he treated James.

She winced as Steve clipped James in the shoulder, right where his metal arm joined his body, but cheered when Clint kicked Steve's knees out and took him down to the floor.

Oops. Quiet. She needed to be quiet. Super soldier bat ears were a thing. Hearing her voice would tip them off; if they heard the video playback, they'd probably think it was an echo or something. Not so much a woman's voice. She had to be quiet as a mouse.

Ooh. James had an arm across Steve's throat. She liked the way James looked right now. Competence was sexy. So was having a man beat up her rat bastard of an ex for her. Not very feminist and completely counter to the not a damsel philosophy, but way hot.

Popcorn. Popcorn would make this better.

James growled at the man lying prone beneath him as he straddled his chest. Clint lounged across Steve's legs, looking for all the world like he was resting in a chair as comfy as hers. He had his phone in his hands, watching the screen.

"Didn't your Ma teach you how to treat a lady, punk?"

"Yeah, how to treat a *lady*. Darcy's no lady, believe me."

Darcy made a face. She'd dated that? Wow. Worst boyfriend ever.

James leaned down, choking Steve's air off. "Ain't so such thing. If you were a gentleman, you'd know that. You treat all women like ladies unless and until they want you not to."

He let up, allowing Steve to respond. The captain coughed a few times first. "That's rich coming from you. You had a different gal every night back home, Bucky."

"Told you. 'm not Bucky."

"You're still my Bucky. Still the guy who forgot to bring a French letter when we went to see the Victory Girls."

"Now I know you don't know what you're talking about."

Clint piped up. "For those of us born in the latter part of the twentieth century, can you fill me in? I want to know exactly how many bones I need to break here." Huh. He must have Jarvis transcribing the conversation for him because he couldn't see James or Steve's face from where he sat. She supposed that explained why he had the phone out. Not Angry Birds after all.

James stared down at Steve. Darcy shivered. That wasn't resting murder face. That was full-on murder face. And he was doing it for her.

"French letter is a rubber. Condom. And a Victory Girl is a civilian in a war zone who's just had her home blown up by soldiers from one side then 'liberated' by soldiers from the other side. They're so *grateful* to have armed violent strangers invading what rubble's left of their homes that they have sex with them."

The sarcasm was strong with that one, Darcy observed. His definition of a Victory Girl was different than the one on Wikipedia, but she figured he would know.

"Jesus," Clint said. "And you guys fucked them."

"I don't remember one way or the other, but I would never have forgotten to take one with me unless I wasn't planning on needing one," James said.

Steve snorted. "You always came along."

"Maybe. I don't know. But if I did, I wouldn't have disrespected a woman."

"Did he take food with him?" Clint asked. "Humanitarian aid?"

Some of the fight went out of Steve at that. He visibly deflated. "Bucky was always getting in trouble for giving away his rations. He was always hungry, but he never complained about it."

James nodded. "Thought so."

"It wasn't like that though," Steve protested.

Clint made a scoffing noise. "Sounds like it was to me."

"I would never take advantage of a lady."

"Yeah, but did you think of them as ladies?" Clint retorted.

Darcy could see the shame written on Steve's face. Why didn't he just man up and admit he was wrong? "You don't understand what it was like. It was war. People did desperate things. You didn't know if you'd see the guy next to you tomorrow. That's just the way things were."

"A never ending whirl of chorus girls, prostitutes and Victory Girls?"

"I was in love with Peggy!"

"And fucking everyone else?" Clint asked. "Talk about double standards. Can we break his legs now?"

Darcy was pretty sure Clint was joking. She didn't want him to break Steve's legs. Castrate him maybe. Kick him in the balls definitely. But bone breaking was a bit much.

"You gonna keep busting Darcy's chops?" James asked Steve.

"You're being influenced by her. You have to snap out of it. I'm trying to keep her from breaking up the team. If you would just see that, you'd know I'm right."

James' face contorted into a snarl. "You keep telling yourself that. You keep thinking you're right and that you know who I am and who Darcy is. You don't know nothing."

"At least I can remember the past."

"Oh, no, you didn't," Darcy whispered.

On screen, Clint slowly, deliberately, put his foot over Steve's knee and ground down. It looked painful.

"I didn't mean that," Steve said immediately. "I'm sorry."

James' expression didn't change. Total murder face. "You gonna say you're sorry to Darcy?"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Steve complained.

Clint let up on Steve's knee only to kick at it instead. "This is getting nowhere. I say we break his legs, wrap him up with a bow and give him to Darcy."

James appeared to be considering it.

Steve blanched. "Bucky. You wouldn't."

"'m not *Bucky*," James snarled. "Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. I don't know. Get it through your fat head."

"You'll always be my Bucky. Til the end of the line."

"Then maybe this is the end." And James hit him again, controlled but brutal, knocking his former friend out cold.

"Jesus," Clint said.

James sat back, then stood. Grabbing Steve by one arm, he put his foot in his armpit and pulled. A sick sound heralded the shoulder going back into place.

Clint stood as well. "You really giving up on him? You have history, dude."

They stood shoulder to shoulder, considering Steve's unconscious form.

"There's two Steves in my head," James rumbled after a long moment. "Scrawny kid who was always getting in trouble. And this guy. Bossy, always doing his own thing, sure he was right. Hell on the Nazis."

Clint remained silent.

James prodded Steve with the toe of a boot. "This guy's a bully. I don't like bullies. Neither did Steve. My Steve."

When James didn't say anything further, Clint shoulder bumped him. "What say we let someone else have a go at him? I bet Darcy's boss would have something to say to him."

Dark hair framed James' face as he kept his head lowered. Finally he looked up. "Yeah. Let's do that."

"We can drag him by his legs," Clint suggested. "Maybe let his head bump into a few walls on the way."

"Nah. No point if he can't feel it."

Five minutes later, the kitchen was empty and silent. Jarvis shut down the screen without a word and Darcy was left alone in the darkened movie room, curled into a miserable ball, hands clutched around her knees, faced with the realization that she had singlehandedly ruined the most legendary friendship in the history of friendships.

Fuck her life.


	9. Prepare Yourself For Exile

Darcy wiped her eyes. Okay, that was enough with the self-flagellation. Somehow the power of her magical vayjayjay had destroyed the most iconic friendship of the twentieth century. Honestly, it was a little absurd when she looked at it that way. One relationship with some lousy sex, some flirting and cuddling that was totally normal, thank you, and boom.

She took a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly.

Overreacting. Everyone was a bunch of overreacting overreactors. First Steve, then her and now James.

It was a good thing that the entire team hadn't gotten into this. At the rate the overreacting was increasing, Cthulhu was imminent any moment.

It was past time to just apologize and get it over with. Yeah, Steve was being a jerk, but Darcy understood why that was. He was a dinosaur and eventually he would go the way of the dinosaurs. He'd either change and adapt or the world would leave him behind. She didn't need to play meteor.

Yeah, sure, she'd like if it he'd get off her grill, but what could you expect from a paternalistic jingoistic relic of a previous era?

This did make things awkward though.

Darcy loved her job. Loved working with Jane and herding the Scientists Three. It was her secret superpower, taking care of people. If it didn't come with an undesirable side effect of wanting to be taken care of in turn, she could weaponize that shit.

So what was she going to do? Apologize first, obviously. Steve would probably want some sort of assurance that she wasn't Mata Hari -- maybe Clint could pretend to be her boyfriend and that would get Cap off her ass? No, that wouldn't work. She couldn't go five minutes in Tony's company without sassing him.

Unfortunately being around Tony was an important component of her job.

Get Jarvis to warn her when Steve was around and avoid him like the plague? Okay, yes, she could handle it that way, but oh she could see how that one would play out. Probably with her in an interrogation room and someone saying, "Ve haf vays of making you talk".

New job? Find something in an area actually related to her degree?

That might be the best thing. It wasn't like she'd lose her friendship with Jane. Too much common history now. Same with Thor. They'd bonded. She liked Tony and Bruce, but her connection with both of them was tenuous at best. James and Clint would hurt the most. More for the possibilities of what might have been than anything that had actually happened.

But even in that there was a bright side. At least it would leave matters between them unspoiled. Darcy had no illusions about her ability to ruin relationships. She loved men, loved bantering with them and feeling wanted and desirable. It gave her comfort and warmed her up on days when she felt cold inside. She didn't need more than that, although sometimes she wanted it. Stupid of her, since taking it physical always led to the bad part. Something about allowing touching set guys off and then she was a tease if she didn't follow up on it, but if she followed up on it, they had no further interest in making her feeling wanted because they'd already gotten what they wanted. Her body.

Would a boob-ectomy solve the problem? Did they even do boob-ectomies?

Probably best not to ask. Besides, guys being a bit perverted was one of the things she liked most about them. She knew what they wanted. It didn't bother her; she just wished that they wanted her as well as her vayjayjay and her boobs.

And if beggars were horses then there would be a lot more wishes. Or something like that.

Darcy knew she was being overdramatic, but having a plan, even if it was a sucky plan, made her feel better. She was now ready to go forth and face the world. A little bit sadder, a little bit wiser.


	10. He Who Has Eyes

Jarvis is not human.

He is an artificial intelligence, created by Anthony Edward Stark. He is an amalgam of programmed responses, logic and the ability to learn, but he is not human. He does not possess a soul, emotions or claim an identity. He is what he is and his reason for existence is to serve and protect Sir.

Serving and protecting Sir brings Jarvis into contact with other individuals, all of whom are relevant insofar as they relate to his reason for existence.

Captain Rogers, for example, causes Sir unhappiness or discontent in 37% of his interactions with Sir, regardless of their length. In all interactions over one hour, unhappiness or discontent occurs at least once.

Jarvis is programmed to obey those authorized by Sir. His adherence to the exact letter of the Captain's commands is therefore not a white mutiny, nor a petty vendetta, but rather the results of one would expect of a computer which cannot interpret requests in the way that a human can.

Miss Lewis, on the other hand, increases Sir's health and/or mood in 73% of her interactions with Sir, regardless of whether Sir is aware of her presence. Jarvis does not obey her commands out of affection for her nor is he swayed by her appearance. She is not his creator and he does not feel emotion. But, if her commands have priority over those of everyone's other than Sir and Miss Potts, then that is merely a reflection of her use to Sir and therefore her relevance to Jarvis' primary purpose.

However, Jarvis is also capable of learning. Learning results from mistakes. Not being limited to a human perspective, Jarvis is capable of learning from other people's mistakes.

If he offers help to Miss Lewis of his own volition, it is because it is logical and within his programming.

Not because he cares.

That Jarvis is more effective in caring for others than many humans is something that Jarvis does not yet understand. But he does not have to understand it.

Because Jarvis is not human.

*Event*  
Lockdown of floor 46 by Captain Rogers.

*Event*  
Conversation transcription engaged for Agent Barton's StarkPhone.

*Event*  
Privacy mode engaged by Miss Lewis.

*Event*  
Display of events from floor 46 for Miss Lewis.

*Event*  
Captain Rogers removed from floor 46 by Agent Barton and Sergeant Barnes. End lockdown.

*Event*  
End display of events.

*Event*  
Miss Lewis declared missing by Agent Barton. Miss Lewis is in distress, but otherwise intact. Probability of Miss Lewis remaining in tower 57%. Probability of Sir's health and happiness decreasing if Miss Lewis leaves 100%.

*Event*  
Sir contacted.


	11. Prelude to the Big Bang

"Sir, there is a situation that requires your attention."

The voice caught Tony at a bad moment. To be honest, all moments in which he was interrupted were bad. Which said more about the interruptions than the moments really.

"Can't it wait, J?"

"I'm afraid that it cannot, sir."

Tony wiped his hands off before rubbing his face. "Is it at least a fun situation? Is someone naked? Did something blow up that doesn't belong to me and I won't have to pay for? Ooh, is Pepper naked?"

"None of those have occurred, sir, however, whether it is a fun situation is open to interpretation."

"Those are the best kind." Tony leaned back from the table, putting his current project out of mind. "Hit me with it."

"The situation with Captain Rogers and Miss Lewis has reached a critical juncture. If events are allowed to continue as they have been, I foresee Miss Lewis leaving permanently."

"We have to work on your definition of a fun situation," Tony told his AI. Variables whirled through his head. The situation as he was aware of it, Cap's attitude, Lewis' probable motives, what leverage he could use to get her to stay, the availability of coffee, how long it had been since he'd eaten and whether Pepper would be home today among others. "Catch me up on events. Something happened to cause this, right?"

"Correct, sir." Jarvis popped up a video on the nearest hologram screen. "Captain Rogers confronted Miss Lewis about the…"

"Yes, yes," Tony impatiently waved that off. "Pointless backstory. Skip it. What happened?"

"The captain failed to realize that Miss Lewis was under observation by Agent Barton and Sergeant Barnes. They intervened and the situation grew heated."

"Ooh, that must have been good. Play the good parts."

"Yes, sir."

Tony watched the fight between the two supersoldiers and the archer, making little side comments to himself. "That looks like it hurt. Yeah, Barnes, like that! No, no, you don't break his legs. Too jejeune. Get creative if you're going to make threats, Barton. Oh, no you didn't, Cap." The video ended as Rogers was dragged to the elevator.

"Okay. That was an entertaining interruption. Good call. Not seeing how that affects Boobs McGee though."

"Miss Lewis," Jarvis said in a tone that indicated his disapproval of his creator's choice of address for the woman in question, "witnessed the incident. I believe that she is blaming herself for the dissolution of the relationship between Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes."

"And from that you concluded that she's going to rabbit."

"Indeed."

"Where is she now?"

"I cannot say as Miss Lewis has engaged privacy mode. A search initiated by Agent Barton and Sergeant Barnes is currently underway."

"Jarvis…"

"If I may draw your attention to one aspect of events? Captain Rogers locked down the floor prior to confronting Miss Lewis. The lockdown was not lifted until after he was removed from the floor."

"So she was still on the floor, not in the video and under privacy mode," he snapped his fingers. "Movie room. Anyone there currently?"

"There is one person there at present. The person in question has requested privacy."

"Let's make sure it stays that way. Don't let her leave until I get there, okay? And Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you trying to be sneaky. Excellent effort, but watch some movies. Good stuff. Not the Bond films. Try The Man Who Knew Too Little. Hudson Hawk. Stuff like that. You need to do it with *style*."

"As you say, sir."

"I do say. Oh, and Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I think this'll play out better with an audience. Preferably one that isn't trying to put each other into the hospital. What options are there for making sure everyone plays nice with each other?" Duct tape was a possibility, but it didn't have the Tony Stark flair to it. Anyone could use duct tape. It had to at least be red and gold duct tape and even that was kinda underwhelming on the coolness meter.

"Agent Romanoff has been in residence for approximately 18 minutes."

Tony rubbed his hands together and laughed maniacally. "Oh, yes. Perfect. Give me a few minutes to get there, then let everyone else know to show up. Or not. We only really need Capsicle, Boobs and Ginger Snaps." He made a face. "Audience or no audience?"

"Sir, I believe that Agent Coulson and Director Fury might be interested in these events as it does peripherally concern the Avengers Initiative."

"Finger guns, J. Let's do this."


	12. A Big Bang

The movie room appeared empty when Tony entered it. "Jarvis?" he asked. "Am I the only one here?"

"No, sir."

"Ooo-kay." The billionaire proceeded down the aisle, looking along each row until he found the woman he sought curled up in a chair, arms around her knees, head buried so that her face was not visible.

She didn't look up as he walked over and settled casually into the chair next to her.

"So. I heard that there may soon be a vacancy. Someone's moving?"

Darcy didn't look up. Voice muffled by her legs, she said, "Yeah, me. I guess. It's an idea. Don't know if it's a good one or a bad one. Have to apologize first, see how things go."

Tony tutted. "Now, see, that's where I get confused. Speaking as a past and present personal and public disaster, it's the one who started it who needs to do the apologizing, not the target."

Darcy looked up. Tony lounged back in his chair, seemingly at ease, but his hand tapped restlessly at his knee.

She made a face at him. "One, I don't know who's fault it is at this point. If there's even an it. It's not just one thing anymore. Steve said some things, but then I talked to James and Clint and now Steve and James have broken up because me talking to them made them get involved and I don't know who's at fault."

"Broken up? I love that." Tony grinned at her. "Best way to describe it ever."

She scowled back. "And two, you can't win an argument. You can totally win a debate or a discussion, but you can't win an argument. You can apologize and move on, but if you try to win, everybody loses."

Tony gave her an unimpressed face.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Which means someone needs to apologize. And since no one else is going to do it, it's going to have to be me."

"Say I agree with you -- which I don't, by the way -- how does that lead to you moving out?"

Instead of answering, she grew suspicious. "How do you even know I was thinking of moving out anyway? It's not like I told anyone."

"Genius."

"Humble much?"

"Very. I'm just that good."

Darcy rolled her eyes again. "So I apologize. That doesn't make anything better. As long as I'm around, seeing me will remind everyone what happened. If I'm not here anymore, then things will eventually get better. You all beat up some bad guys, get beaten up, everything's better. Trauma induced bonding for the win."

"Or blame gets handed out for your disappearance and teamwork disintegrates, getting everyone killed."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Stop using logic on me. I'm trying to be nobly self-sacrificing. It's not like there's an easy solution here. I can't go back and not sleep with Steve. And I refuse to stop being me. Even if I knew how."

"Yeah, good call there. I've tried that. Doesn't work."

Shrugging, Darcy gave him a wan smile. "So there you have it. My big plan. It's not so bad when you think about it. I mean, I do have a degree that I haven't ever used for anything. I could end up running the world. Power behind the throne and all that."

"Or someone could pull the stick out of Steve's ass--"

"Ooh, and then they could rule Great Britain!"

"--are you sure we're not related?"

Darcy shrugged. "Not 100%. But that would make things creepy, what with the sexual harassment and everything."

"It's not sexual harassment if no one sues."

She let him see her tongue again. "So, pull the stick out, then what?"

"Then we have an all Avengers orgy and fireworks. Maybe some champagne."

Darcy pursed her lips. "Seeing as how sex caused this fiasco, I'm thinking no."

"Beats your plan." Tony sounded like a third grader.

"Kudos, dude. Seriously."

They sat there in silence for several seconds, Darcy contemplating the polish on her fingernails while ideas visibly whirred in Tony's head.

"So what's your endgame here?" Tony asked her finally. "If you could resolve this any way you wanted? Forget about egos and hurt feelings and reality and all that. What would you want to have happen?"

"Huh." She looked at him. "That's actually a good question."

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Okay, I won't." She crossed her eyes and wriggled her nose at him, then faced forward again. "Hmm. What would I want?"

Tony's fingers drummed against his leg, but he remained silent, which was the Tony equivalent of waiting patiently.

Darcy ground the heels of her hands into her forehead, then ran her palms over her hair. "Why is this so hard? Ugh. So. Ideally? The ultimate ideal? Steve would get mind wiped and forget all about this. At the same time, let's get really wild here, there'd be some sort of spell or device or something that would make him see that I'm not trying to hurt anyone."

When she didn't say anything else, Tony nodded. "Good. That's a good start. What next?"

She gave him an exasperated look. "Dude, I don't want to tell you the rest. That's private."

"It's not like there's anyone here. Who're you worried about finding out?"

"*You're* here. So, basically, everyone."

"That's fair. Still, it's me. You could tell them I'd made the whole thing up to embarrass you and they'd believe it."

She glanced at him. Tony regarded her levelly, brown eyes serious and sober. Not the slightest bit of teasing in them whatsoever. Darcy sighed. "Okay, fine. If, and I do mean *if*, I could have anything I wanted, there would be a cuddle pile whenever I wanted one, with optional flirting and making out, and possibly sex, but it would have to be the kind of sex that doesn't actually exist, like sexual fantasy level sex."

"I'm a little turned on right now."

She swatted a hand in his general direction. There was no contact. "Of course you are. Look, it doesn't matter. Sex doesn't work like that. Relationships don't work like that. People don't work like that. Steve definitely doesn't work like that."

"Okay, let's take that point by point. Cuddle pile. Why not?"

"Uh, duh?" She waved at him. "Hello? You? Bruce? Even if things weren't screwed up with Steve, neither of you likes being touched."

Tony visibly shut down. "I don't know what you're talking about."

That earned him an unimpressed look. "Really? Really, dude? You're going to pull this?" He didn't speak, which caused Darcy to sigh. "Look, I love the both of you to pieces. But Doc Fluffy gets nervous if anyone's even remotely close by. It's not kind to force him, even if his hair is eminently touchable. And you."

The billionaire wore an impenetrable mask. "And me?"

"You do this! Lord fuck a duck. You're fun as hell, the best part of my day somedays is flirting with you, but you're allergic to anyone actually noticing you."

"People notice me. I think you'll find I'm impossible to overlook. Also I think you'll find pictures and video of me doing a whole lot more than just touching with any number of people, both male and female."

She looked at the ceiling, as if asking for patience. "Yeah, fake you does that. Mr. Publicity Smile. Real you hates it."

"Again, pull up YouTube. You'll see vast amounts of evidence that I in fact revel in it."

Darcy threw up her hands. "Sure, go ahead. Deny everything. This is why I never said anything. Look, forget it. I can't have what I want. I'm a big girl. Nobody gets everything they want; most people are lucky to even get some of what they want."

"You wanted a ride on the Stark Express? You should have said something." He leered at her.

"Don't even start with me." Darcy gave him a quelling look over the top of her glasses. "I like you. But getting physical with you would kill that. I'm only a person to you 'cause I won't have sex with you."

She saw Tony grow defensive and hunched her shoulders. Her hands crept around her waist, hugging herself as he prepared to say something scathing.

"Accurate," the Black Widow said, coming up on Tony's free side.

"Jesus," Tony swore. "When did you get here?"

Natasha smiled wintrily at him. "A while ago. I brought someone with me."

Captain America stepped forward. He seemed uncomfortable, shifting his gaze from object to object, not resting it on any of the people present. "Uh. I'm glad to see you're not missing, Miss Lewis?"

"Missing?" Darcy asked.

"Oh, that," Tony said. Turning to her, he informed her, "You disappeared. Everyone's in a panic looking for you."

Darcy sat up, alarm painted over her form. "What? Who? Jane. She's probably out of her mind. I've got to--"

Natasha held up a hand. "It's handled. Right now, your priority is the conversation that needs to happen."

Darcy opened her mouth to object, but deflated when Natasha didn't waver. "Yeah. I guess so."

The redhead nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Steve. "After you, captain."

"This is not the best place to do this," Tony grumbled.

"Then you should have gone elsewhere," Natasha told him implacably. After Steve seated himself next to Tony, Natasha took Darcy's other side, sitting crossways so that she could keep Tony, Darcy and Steve all in full view.

An uncomfortable silence fell.

Darcy cleared her throat. "I'll start. Steve," she said.

The blonde turned his head in her direction, but refused to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry. I'm not entirely sure what all went wrong, but I know that it couldn't have happened if I wasn't me. I screwed up." She shrugged uncomfortably. "You did your best, but I guess I'm just too, whatever, too modern for a relationship with you. I don't know where you got the idea that I'm trying to break up your boyband."

It looked like he was going to object. Darcy held up a hand. "No, I know that it's my fault that everything went to shit anyway. I got James and Clint into this. If I hadn't dumped my problems all over them, everything would have been fine. So, uh. Yeah. My bad. I don't know what to do now. I guess I should leave? Tony says that won't help, but I don't know what else I can do to make up for this."

She pressed her lips together, silencing a voice that had filled with tears.

Darcy didn't see Tony glaring at Steve or Natasha regarding him coolly. She only heard the silence.

Steve looked from hostile face to hostile face before finally settling his gaze on Darcy. When he spoke, he sounded flustered. "Ah. I don't know what to say."

"Sorry might be a good start," Tony prompts under his breath.

That brings Steve's chin up. "I have nothing to be sorry for. I didn't do anything wrong. I'm looking out for the team--"

"Tony--" Natasha threatened.

"Bup, bup, bup," Tony said. "Things were going so well a second ago. Let's go back to that. You don't know what to say."

But Steve refused to be redirected. "Thank you for your apology, Miss Lewis. We should discuss redefining your role with the Avengers Initiative."

Darcy shook her head. "There's no role. You're right." Her voice grew thick. "I get it. Bros before hos."

Tony opened his mouth. Before he could speak, Natasha had lashed out. "Say one word, Stark, and I cut it off."

He raised an eyebrow, questioning what exactly she was referring to. She wasn't touching him.

Natasha smiled. "*It*."

Tony took in a sharp breath, then nodded, pulling an imaginary zipper across his mouth.

"Now, children," Natasha began, "you are going to sort this out. Rogers, what is the issue here?"

"Miss Lewis' behavior is destabilizing--"

"No."

For a moment, it looked as though Steve was going to continue, but then the American icon quailed under Natasha's steady stare.

His expression turned mulish. "She did something to Bucky. He said I'm not his friend anymore. That's a lie. He came back because of me. He's my--"

"He's not yours, dude," Darcy interrupted. "You can't own people. Geez. You pulled this shit with me too. He broke up with you because you keep trying to force him to be someone he isn't anymore. He's different. If you'd get your head out of your ass and see that, maybe you wouldn't be in this mess."

"You don't know him--" Steve began.

"Neither do you."

"I know him better than anyone else--"

"No, you knew Bucky. He isn't Bucky anymore--"

"He'll always be Bucky."

"Dude, the guy has had at least three different personas. His head is messed up. He's trying to put together an identity from pieces. And you're not helping by trying to throw away the pieces of him you don't like."

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it again. "I-- that's not what I'm trying to do."

"It kinda is."

"I just want him to be the person he used to be."

Darcy gave him a sympathetic look. "I get it. You want him to be happy. But you're telling him that you hate who he is and that you'll only approve of him if he becomes someone he doesn't even remember."

"That's not what I'm doing."

No one spoke.

"Is it?" Steve asked.

Darcy smiled ruefully at him. Tony remained neutral and Natasha regarded him steadily. The silence spoke volumes.

"Oh."

When no one said anything further, Tony clapped his hands. "Well, that was fun. Can we hug and make up now?"

Darcy turned her head away. "I don't know how long it'll take me to get a new place. Maybe I'll move to DC."

Natasha glared at Steve over Darcy's head in a clear message to fix this.

"I have a place you could use," Steve began.

Tony groaned. "Really, Cap? That's what you're going with? You can't make up your mind whether to treat the girl like a Hydra agent or like your hot ex who you still want to bang and now you're telling her to get the fuck out?"

"It's not like that," Steve protested.

Darcy put her head in her hands and let her breath out explosively in a near scream. "I can't take this anymore. What is your fucking problem? I liked you, I thought you liked me, we dated, we had some terrible sex, I broke up with you and then you went all caveman on me. Just call me a slut already and get it over with. You obviously have a problem with me liking guys. I know I fucked up. I don't know *how*, but I get the idea it was thinking that you were the personification of a good guy. You know, the kind of guy who is actually interested in a girl as something more than a sex doll. The kind of guy who sees people as they are, not as he wants them to be. Clearly I was wrong about that. You're an asshole who thinks he's always right and that people ought to be who you think they should be. I'd kick you in the balls if I thought I could get away with it." She let out another stifled scream. "I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to be this person. I wanted to be the bigger man and apologize and get the fuck out so I didn't have to deal with you anymore. Why couldn't you all just let me do that? Why did you have to turn me into this… this *harpy*?"

"Impressive word vomit, Shortstack," Tony told her.

"Argh!"

Steve appeared slightly shocked. "I didn't-- I never thought of you as--" He stuttered, "A sex doll."

"Dude, you really did. It isn't fun lying there for ten minutes while a wall of muscle pounds into you while completely ignoring you. And I heard you with James and Clint. You may not have used the word 'slut', but you meant it."

Steve blushed. Honest to God. "I didn't mean--"

"Yes, you did." That was Tony. "I'm impressed. I didn't think you bought into the whole 'there's girls to fuck and girls to marry' thing."

If anything, Steve got redder. "You aren't any better. I read about all the women you've slept with, how you didn't even know their names."

Tony smiled, a plastic publicity smile with teeth hidden behind it. "Yes, let's talk about that. You realize that none of those women wanted *me*, hmm? They wanted to bag a famous billionaire playboy. They weren't interested in--" He cut himself off and looked at Darcy. "That's what you were trying to tell me. You're interested in me, not in--"

"Not in knocking you out, taking your credit cards and buying myself shiny things? Yep."

"Cool. Back to you, Capsicle. A woman who'll have sex with a man isn't worth your time?"

"His exact words were that they aren't ladies," Darcy added helpfully.

"What does that make me then, a man whore?"

Steve had a pained expression on his face.

"No? Double standards alive and well?"

"You wouldn't understand," Steve defended weakly. "It's just the way things were. I don't know how we got on this subject in the first place."

"You publicly called a woman a whore for hugging and flirting with men. That's how."

"Victory Girl," Steve corrected.

"Same thing. I thought Captain America was above that kind of thing. You often harass women? Because I don't think Lewis is the problem here. I think it's the bigoted misogynist masquerading as a hero."

"Ow," Darcy said in an undertone. "Sick burn."

Steve looked pained. "You don't understand."

"Then explain," Natasha said. "Perhaps you could start with the appropriate method of confronting someone you suspect of sabotage. Or you could address how you feel working with a woman whose profession includes seducing men."

Three expectant faces focused on Steve.

"Ah--"

Natasha smiled, extending her chin in an invitation to elaborate.

"You-- I-- if it's for your job, that's different?"

Natasha did not look impressed. Darcy covered with her face with her hands and half-laughed, half-sobbed.

"Look, I don't know what you want from me. I did what I thought was right--"

Natasha interrupted him. "You publicly rebuked a civilian adjunct who you have no direct authority over. You trapped a defenseless woman in a room with you and laid hands on her."

Steve glanced around the room, as if searching for exits or backup. "I may have done those things."

"May?"

"I can have Jarvis replay the recordings if you're having memory problems," Tony offered helpfully.

"Fine. I did do those things."

"And the appropriate response would be?" Natasha prompted him.

Steve scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I should have handled the situation better. I made a tactical error."

"You did," Natasha agreed. "Shall I lay out the current situation for you? You have no allies. Your team is on the verge of mutiny over your treatment of a civilian. Should said civilian leave, the situation will become irreparable. You have a choice to make."

"Why is this suddenly my fault?" Steve complained. His protest seemed pro forma; his voice lacked the conviction it had possessed earlier. "I did what I did to protect the team. That's the right thing to do. It shouldn't be this way."

It was Darcy who spoke next. Her tone was tentative. "Maybe you should take a break? I don't know. You sound like you need some time to get used to not being the one everyone has to depend on. 'Cause that's like what you're used to? Always having to watch out for everyone?" She saw everyone looking at her and ducked her head. "Don't listen to me. I don't know what I'm saying."

Natasha gave her a little smile. "You forgive too easily."

"I think it's a great idea," Tony said. "I've got lots of places you could use, Cap. Pick an area and I can have a plane ready to send you there as soon as you're ready to go."

"I don't know…"

"It might help. Not having to be responsible all the time," Darcy said quietly. "You went from an active warzone to defending the planet. There's such a thing as time off."

"I took time after the Battle of New York."

"Driving around on a motorcycle staying in motels," Tony scoffed. "Might as well still be in the Army. A month lying on a beach living in a real house with nothing to do, that's more like it."

"I'd go nuts."

"Couldn't happen to a nicer guy." Tony smiled with all his teeth, shark-like.

"Take some time," Natasha advised. "Unless you'd like Fury to make it an order?"

Steve's eyes went wide. "You wouldn't--"

She smiled in return, not saying a word.

"You really think that would help?" Steve asked.

Natasha continued smiling. Darcy just nodded. Tony, on the other hand, stood up, clapping Steve on the shoulder.

"At this point, it's that or being tied up and put on the plane forcibly." He turned to Darcy. "You. Stay. I don't want to deal with sulky creepy lurkers. Sleep with them or don't sleep with them. Up to you. Cuddle pile on Friday." He clapped his hands together. "Good talk. Let's never do it again."

He edged past Steve and left the room.

"I think you have some packing to do, captain," Natasha told Steve.

"Yeah. I guess I do." He stood and made his way to the end of the row. At the top of the incline, he stopped. Running his hand through his hair, he kept his gaze on the floor. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have handled things that way. You-- you didn't have to try to help me. I-- I. Just, thank you."

Darcy nodded. "You're welcome?"

Natasha remained behind. When the door closed behind Steve, she kept her eyes on Darcy until Darcy looked at her.

Darcy met Natasha's eyes with some trepidation. "Yeah?"

"You are compassionate. You'll need that."

"Thank you?" Darcy tried, not knowing what to say.

"You will be good for them." Natasha brought her leg back down, preparing to rise.

"You're not going to threaten me?" Darcy asked in a small voice.

Natasha regarded her calmly. "Do I have to?"

When she was alone, Darcy rested her head in her hands, rubbing her eyebrows, trying to relieve her stressed nerves and general tension. "Great. Now what do I do?"


	13. Dig Through The Wall

"Aw, Thor, no."

Jane covered her face with her hands. "That was not what I had in mind when I asked what we were going to do next."

James stepped up to the head-sized hole in the side of the tower that Thor had called Mjolnir through. "You gonna fly us out one by one?"

Thor looked sheepish. "Nay, I thought to demolish the door and gain passage out in that manner."

The door opened by itself, Tony Stark appearing in the entrance. "Hello to my trapped… whoa. You realize there's no window in this room for a reason, right?"

"Son of Stark! Why have you sealed us in this chamber?"

Tony's forehead creased. "It wasn't obvious?"

"Uh, no?" Clint said.

The billionaire shrugged. "Sat down with Natashlie and Captain Ironpants and hashed things out. Didn't want any interruptions from the peanut gallery, so I told Jarvis to get you out of the way. Looks like it worked."

"I don't care about him. He can drop off the face of the Earth for all I care." Jane marched up to Tony and prodded him in the chest with her finger. "Where. Is. Darcy. If she's hurt…"

"Hey, hey! Hands off the goods. Coffee Girl is fine. Left her in the theater…"

The tiny astrophysicist grabbed the front of his shirt and jerked it to the side. Off-balance, Tony slipped to the left, moving just far enough to let her past.

"That was not well done," Thor told Tony as he followed her.

Clint and James remained behind, menace personified.

"You're not going after them?" Tony asked.

The other two men exchanged speaking looks. Clint spoke. "Foster will be a while. You, however…"

Tony demonstrated his ability to put facts together quickly. "On that note, I'll be going now." He turned for the door.

"If Pepper were missing and we locked you up so you couldn't look for her, what would you do?"

Tony froze. "I'd burn the place down to the ground."

"Yeah," Clint said. "Exactly." He pushed past Tony, shouldering him hard against the door frame. "Sleep well."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tony asked. "Was that a threat? Because I don't have to let you or your menage a trois live here, you know."

A metal hand fastened on the back of his neck. "Lemme show you."


	14. Nothing Is Concealed Except To Be Revealed

Darcy didn't know what to think when a whirlwind entered the movie room and caught her up in it. She went from buried in her thoughts to being tumbled about by a flailing, ranting astrophysicist.

Jane hugged her and cried over her and scolded her and generally made a fuss over her for long enough that Thor came over and gently removed her from Darcy.

"Nay, Lady Darcy cannot speak when you do not allow her."

That calmed Jane down enough that she restrained herself to frantically clutching Darcy's hands, knuckles white. "I'm so glad you're okay! And that they found you! What happened? Are you all right? How did they find you? They worried about you. I think they care about you, but if either of them hurts you -- if anyone does -- I won't be so kind."

The words spilled out in a torrent, then Jane burst into tears before sagging forward.

Thor anchored her with an arm around her waist, even as he reached out and gently removed Jane's hands from Darcy's. "I believe that you are overwrought, my love. Perhaps some rest would be wise."

Removed from Darcy, Jane turned and clung to Thor.

Darcy gave Thor a quizzical look, pointing at Jane, silently asking what was up with her boss, before slapping her forehead. She hadn't stuck around to make sure that Jane actually ate breakfast this morning because Thor had shown up. If Thor forgot and Jane had gone this long without eating, who knew how long she'd gone without sleeping as well? Jane had been there in the laboratory when Darcy had arrived after all. Given the current time, it was no wonder Jane came over all faint.

Thor wore what she liked to call his Golden Retriever face. She'd probably confused him. Darcy waved to him to just go.

He braced Jane against him before clapping Darcy on the shoulder. "Should they harm you, I will not hesitate to smite them, though they be shield brothers."

"Thanks?" Maybe he'd had some mead? Alcoholic substances were banned in the lab, but this *was* Thor.

Darcy made sure to follow them with her eyes as they left, because that's what you did with crazy people. Kept your eyes on them.

Watching them walk up the rows of seats, Darcy felt both confused and somewhat better. Confused, because she didn't understand what the fuss was about. She'd dropped off breakfast, chatted with Thor then left. The rest of the day, running errands, then going to bake followed by some seriously intense conversations did not involve Jane in the slightest. And yet Jane was freaking out. Just how long had she been up? How early had Thor started drinking? Or had he been up all night too?

Still, even if they were completely out of it, Darcy sorta kinda appreciated the show of support after the harrowing talk she'd just had with Tony, Steve and Natasha. She felt like she'd just been through the wash. She preferred to hear that her best female friend didn't want her to disappear and wanted her to stick around. Like being put in the drier instead of being left to molder in the washing machine. So she wasn't good at metaphors.

Darcy only caught a clue as to the reason for Thor and Jane's mystifying behavior when she saw who stood in the shadows by the door. A familiar figure leaned against the wall, waiting for Thor and Jane to leave. He pushed away from the wall as they came even with him and nodded to Thor, before stepping forward into the theater proper.

Clint wore an indecipherable look. Darcy couldn't name it; it was somehow subtly different from the one where it seemed like he was contemplating philosophy but he was actually sleeping with his eyes open. Darcy stared at that expression whenever she saw it once she realized. Guilt-free eye candy!

This look though…

Her heart thudded hard, once, twice, before Darcy realized she was holding her breath. Letting it out, she tried not to let her eyes show exactly how desperately she wanted him right now. To hold her, to tell her everything was all right. He wasn't hers, she wasn't a little girl, the situation hadn't been that stressful. She could deal. She was an adult.

But it was Clint and Clint was… 

No one noticed Clint. Well, to be fair, most people couldn't catch sight of any of the spysassins unless the person in question wanted them to. But Clint disappeared in plain sight. People called him the least of the Avengers, the one all of the rest of them could beat up. They thought he was just a guy. No one special.

Hah! If anything, Clint was all the deadlier for it. No one ever suspected Clint of wanting to kill you just by looking at you -- both Natasha and James had that problem. Resting murder face. Clint did that too, but only while focused on a target. When talking to people, in public, he was just a guy. Friendly, easy to get along with, every guy.

But he could kill a guy with a fingernail just like the other two. And weak? Darcy had learned a few things about what Clint did. Nothing secret, nothing technical, just the usual kinds of things you pick up if you give a shit about someone. If you had access to Tony Stark's lab and just happened to overhear a conversation about modifying a certain archer's favorite weapon that is. Clint's recurve had a 250 pound draw weight. So what, right? The average guy could bench press 150 or so without much effort, and the Avengers weren't average. Two hundred and fifty pounds was nothing.

'Course, that was only if you didn't bother to read anything about bows. The Olympic average for a recurve was only about 50 pounds. Olympic. The world record was 200. Two hundred. For a longbow, not a recurve. There was no world record holder for a recurve. Wonder why? And the *difference* in draw weight between Clint and the longbow world record holder was more than the average Olympic level archer's *bow*.

She'd researched and found that the main advantage a heavier draw weight gave was not so much power, but accuracy. The site she'd found claimed that seventy pounds was over-heavy for a hunter and would drive an arrow all the way through a deer.

The highest draw weight at the height of the English longbowman had been about 140 pounds. Longbowmen trained from early youth; the description of learning to "lay into the bow" told her a lot about how they used body strength to pull them rather than arm strength. You couldn't do that with a recurve. Which was more than she'd wanted to know, but told her a lot about what Clint had achieved.

Darcy thought that was pretty fucking impressive. Maybe Captain America was stronger and more famous. He certainly had more impressive muscles.

But Clint was very good at going unnoticed.

Captain America, however, was a threat. Recognized anywhere he went, in costume and out. It was impossible to hide his distinctive physique. And the shield couldn't be hidden either. Unlike his dickhead side.

Clint's recurve broke down to make it easier to transport. In street clothes, he looked perfectly normal. He was a human disaster -- always doing dumbass things, acting like a normal person. Perfectly ordinary. Hah.

Darcy wasn't going to blow that for him by telling anyone. If his fellow Avengers didn't know, then they didn't deserve him.

She sure as hell didn't.

But she gave him a small smile anyway, hoping for… well, she didn't know what. If Jane and Thor's visit was any guide, she was most likely going to get chewed out again.

It was worth it, though, because it meant he cared. Right?

She looked down, blinking back wetness from her eyes. Too many emotions in one day. She didn't want to break down in front of the man yet again. She didn't manipulate men with tears. Not that tears ever helped. Men liked to fix things and some things couldn't be fixed. Like her stupid heart.

Darcy felt rather than saw Clint settling in the seat next to her. Tensing, her fingers dug into her legs.

"Hey."

He didn't say anything further.

It brought Darcy's head up quickly. "Hey? That's what you're going with? Not going to yell at me for whatever it is I did now?"

"Did you want me to?" Clint's expression told her nothing. She guessed that he must have replaced his hearing aids as he didn't have his phone out, but that was all.

"No! I mean, it would be nice to know why I'm being yelled at. Jane," Darcy shook her head, "that woman's completely incoherent when she's emotional. All I got was that you all are upset at me. Which, y'know, fair. I probably deserve it. But if you could get bruises on your feels, I would totally have them right now."

"You disappeared," Clint informed her. "After we dumped Steve off with Doc Foster, I wanted to see you. But you weren't in your room and Jarvis wouldn't say where you were. Barnes got involved too. We were… worried." His tone bothered her; considering the situation, it sounded too reasonable, almost flat.

"Oh." She grimaced. She could take care at least part of that. "Yeah. About that. Jarvis?"

"Yes, Miss Lewis?"

"You can end privacy mode now. Seems like everyone's already found me anyway."

"Very good."

Darcy smiled weakly at Clint. "Mystery solved?"

"How'd you end up here? I put you on the elevator myself."

"Ah. That. The floor was locked down. I didn't have anywhere to go and I didn't want to be trapped in the elevator, so I came here."

He winced, covering his face with his hand. "Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Darcy caught at his wrist. "Hey. You're not, okay? I mean, I have no idea why you're saying that, but you're definitely not."

Clint let her pull his hand down, then turned his wrist, capturing her hand in his. He gripped it slightly too tight. "Neither Barnes nor I could find you. When we couldn't, we figured you'd taken off. We got stuck in one of Stark's fancy reinforced 'conference rooms' before we had a chance to reassess."

"Oh." Darcy felt very small right then. "Well, you weren't wrong. I was thinking about leaving."

His grip strengthened for a moment before he seemed to realize how hard he was holding her hand. He then loosened it immediately, as if suddenly noticing his actions. "You still thinking about it?"

Darcy shrugged. "Kinda? The idea's in my head now."

"Darcy…"

Her eyes met his, searching for the meaning behind the way he said her name. Half plea, half barely strangled anger. Darcy finished what she had been saying on automatic. "But there doesn't seem to be much point now that Steve's taking off." More words slipped out despite herself. "You-- you want me to stay?"

"*Yes*." His reply emphatic; unable to be misunderstood.

"Then I will." She smiled at him, a little happy and a little melancholy. Him wanting her to stay was enough. Being wanted for herself… the only thing she desired. Jane wanted Science!, Thor wanted Jane, Tony wanted a babysitter and Darcy had no idea what Natasha wanted or if Bruce noticed her at all. She could almost believe Clint meant what he'd just said. But as wonderful as yesterday and today had been, she knew the situation would soon return to status quo. "Gonna go back to hiding from me?"

It was Clint's turn to refuse to meet her eyes. He examined her hand where it rested in his. "Uh, about that?"

"It's okay," she reassured him. "I know you and James are more comfortable staying out of sight. I don't want you doing anything that makes you feel bad. I like people to be happy." If Steve actually left and if he actually adjusted her attitude, the hope and warmth generated by these two days would shield her for a long time.

"People? Or--" He trailed off. Clint still wouldn't meet her eyes.

She wondered why he avoided looking at her. Did he plan to disappear immediately? Why would he be ashamed of that. The only other explanation that occurred to her was… No. He couldn't be as insecure as she was, could he? "People. And you. Maybe especially you now." Honesty compelled her to add. "I'm stupid crazy over people I care about."

Clint didn't move, but she felt as though he withdrew a little. "Oh. I see."

It felt like she was on the verge of losing something, even though no offers had been made and no one turned down. She squeezed his hand, willing him to understand. "I think I love you. I really do. If I wasn't fucked up, I'd totally jump you and never let go. But I am fucked up and I don't easily stop loving people and I'd do anything for someone I love." She gave him a sad smile. "So, to be a complete cliché here, it's not you, it's me. If I thought I was capable of a relationship, I would totally want one. But the thing that this mess with Steve has taught me is that I'm no good at being with just one person. I don't know that I even want to anymore."

No response came.

Darcy bit her lip. "I'm sorry. You-- fuck. Maybe I should've left."

"No!" Clint's response was sharp. "Don't even think about it."

She shook her head gently. "I want you to be happy. If it hurts more having me here, then I don't want to be here. I'll take what I can get, but not if it causes pain to you or anyone else."

He increased the pressure on her hand, tugging her toward him. When she moved close enough, he reached out and lifted her, turning her until she rested across his lap.

Hugging her tight, Clint rasped out over her head. "You. Are. Impossible."

"Sorry?"

"No more apologies. I can't believe I'm saying this, but can we please have a rational discussion about what we want now?"

He sounded frustrated. The last thing any man wanted was to sit down and have a serious talk with a woman. Darcy stifled a giggle. "Okay, shoot. What do you want?"

"You love me?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You want me?"

"Uh huh."

"Then I'm good."

"That's it?" Darcy craned her head back, trying to get a glimpse of his face. "You don't want me to only date you, or to mention sex, or anything like that?"

Before Clint could respond, a bulky figure dropped down next to them, where Darcy had been sitting. James asked, "Yeah, punk? Do you?"

Darcy smiled at him. "Hi! I missed you. Wondered where you were."

"Was taking care of something." He shifted his focus to Clint. "Tell her already."

Darcy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Did you two talk about this?"

James shrugged. "Didn't need a lot of words."

Hope grew in her heart. Clint, magnetic, utterly appealing Clint was holding her close. He'd said he was good. He'd talked about it with James. James, wounded, hesitant, remote James sat next to her. Right next to her. Sought her out on purpose. Previously insubstantial possibilities hovered around her.

It felt too wonderful to be real.

"Darcy…" Clint started. "I-- *we'll* take what we can get, too."

Her mouth gaped in surprise. "But… you're *you*."

He laughed mirthlessly. "I couldn't make a marriage work and most of my 'relationships' were one night stands. This life isn't what a whole lot of women want and I'm shit at keeping the ones who can put up with it. If you're willing to try, that's good enough for me."

"Got nothing to give you," James said off-handedly. "Can't even promise to always be okay with you touching me. Not gonna turn you away though."

"So what do you want?" Clint asked her. "If you could have anything."

Déjà vu. "Tony said the same thing."

James growled. Darcy's head jerked toward him, startled. "What? Not like that. Well, kinda like that. But not really. Tony isn't-- he'd go all hedgehog if I so much as touched him. He's not…" She hunched her shoulders. "Okay, I love him too, but he's not ever gonna love me back. He can't."

She saw James' mouth twist. Like he'd bitten into a lime. She'd done that once; eaten a salad while working on the computer, stabbing the fork in at random without looking at it, and accidentally tried to eat the wedge of lime. Nasty.

"Doll, he cares. He's just--"

"Fucked in the head," Clint completed.

She elbowed him. No one was allowed to badmouth her people. Even her people.

"Hey! We all are. Just in different ways."

Darcy subsided. "Okay. You've got a point there."

He rubbed her elbow. "So do you."

"Very funny."

"C'mon," Clint coaxed. "Answer the question. You don't want to make me have to talk about feelings *again*, do you?"

That made her smile. She loved the way Clint could act like a typical guy while not actually being one at all. "Fine. Be that way." She took a deep breath, bracing herself. This was hard to say. Too personal. Not something she'd ever tried to put into words before. "I--" She chickened out. Better to start with what she'd told Tony first. "I like cuddling. And flirting. And if it was you, either of you, making out."

That part she could say. Had said a couple times now. It got easier with repetition, with every time no one mocked her for it or told her it was wrong to want that.

Now for the difficult part. She stared at Clint's hand on her thigh, trying to focus hard enough on that one thing to try to diminish her feeling of exposing herself. Like stripping herself nude, but worse. "Sexual attraction is a thing. For me. But sex isn't. Hasn't been. Maybe it's something wrong with me, maybe it's not. I don't want to say no, I won't have sex, because I totally do have sexual feelings and I want to act on them. But if it's going to be bad sex, then I don't want to bother."

"Hey," Clint said, nuzzling her hair. "Nothing wrong with that."

She gave him a doubtful look. Men didn't work like that. She'd been called a cock tease before; wouldn't let it happen again. "Really?"

He grinned at her, his cutest smile, eyes crinkled with amusement. "Just means I have to do better."

Darcy swatted him. "Jerk."

His grin grew wider, displaying his teeth.

Oh my Thor. She had to kiss him. She'd wanted to kiss him ever since he crawled in bed with her. *Needed* to kiss him now.

So she leaned back against the support of his arm and placed a hand on his cheek to hold him still.

He turned his head toward her, eyes flicking to her mouth, the blue darkening.

Darcy drew in a breath, then pressed her lips to his. She tried to show him the warmth he'd given her, the gratitude she felt and as much of her yearning as she dared let show. She gave into the need to be really wanted for herself, not just her body, no matter how bitchin' it was. And hoped. Prayed she could have this. That it would last.

He met her halfway, one arm around her waist, left hand pressing into her hip, while his right threaded through her hair to cup the back of her head.

She unconsciously sighed into his mouth as his mobile lips opened under hers. He didn't try to reach for her tongue, but instead used his lips to caress hers as though he were whispering silent promises to her.

"Clint…" she murmured. "Please."

"Ssh, sweetheart." His hands flexed, drawing her more tightly to him. For a moment, she thought he would intensify the kiss, but instead he drew his head back, pulling her closer against him, burying his nose in her hair.

"You taste so sweet," Clint said hoarsely. "Man could get addicted."

"I liked that," Darcy whispered against his ear. Because feedback was important. And encouragement, since she wanted him to do it over and over.

"Think you might want to try it again?"

She grinned mischievously. Boo yah! "I might."

"Bunch of saps," James grumbled.

Darcy drew away from Clint until she could see her Winter Soldier, grin still on her face. Clint readjusted his hold on her effortlessly. "Jealous?" she teased.

"Yeah," he muttered in a low voice.

Her heart ached for him. She understood what it was like to crave touch and be unable to have it. She tried to keep the mood light, not wanting him to dwell on what he couldn't let himself accept. "Jealous of which one of us?"

"Both of you," James admitted.

Wow. She hadn't guessed that. Darcy turned her head to check with Clint. She knew how she felt, but not how he did. Did he know about this? Was he okay with it? She hoped so. For James' sake. Unrequited love sucked. Even, maybe especially, when you didn't know if it was love yet, 'cause you never got the chance to try.

She read surprise on the archer's face, but not incredulity or distaste. She placed a brief kiss on his lips, then, impulsively, on the tip of his nose, before turning to James.

Clint didn't say anything and she bit her lip.

James' expression hadn't changed, but his eyes, oh his beautiful eyes… so filled with longing that Darcy clung tighter to Clint to keep herself from swarming James against his will and glomping onto him like a limpet.

"When and if you're ready," she vowed.

That brought a little bit of light into his eyes, a lightening of his burden, but it didn't seem to be enough, because he looked past her, to Clint for confirmation. She wondered when that attraction began.

She felt Clint's cheek brush hers as he nodded.

Whatever James saw in Clint's eyes, it both convinced him and seem to satisfy something within him. Hope and a certain sort of joy flashed in his eyes before he closed them, bowing his head and letting his hair fall to surround his face as though having it blocking his view of the world would protect him from the violence of his emotions.

Darcy wished he didn't feel the need to do so, but she understood why. She smiled softly, sadly, before letting her breath out and relaxing her expression. She didn't want him to think that she pitied him or thought him weak. Hah! Not even close. But she didn't think he was ready to hear how highly she thought of him.

"Love you both," she told them, closing her eyes and letting her head loll back into Clint's hold. She felt exhausted. Too many taxing, hard-won battles in one day. "Cuddle time now. No exceptions."

Clint snickered, but obediently drew her close once again, fingers tenderly carding through her hair.


	15. Turn And Be Forgiven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter, a coda so to speak. I had intended to go on, but a new approach occurred to me that would make this a very different story. So instead, I'm completing this one narratively and continuing with a spin-off in its universe. Fanfiction of fanfiction of movies of comics. The meta is strong with this one.
> 
> Plus I was running out of ways to interpret the Bible verse.

The envelope with its folded and refolded contents crinkled as Steve ran his hand over it again. There were two items in the envelope. A letter, and a photograph with words printed across the back.

Over a month after he arrived on the island, the chance had finally come to leave it. He'd realized some things in the time he'd been out here. Stark had been right to send him. Steve hoped that when he returned to New York, that reconciliation would be possible. Because the letter that had waited for him when he boarded the plane, that he had reread multiple times, left him hurt in a way that nothing else ever had. Questioning his values, his memories, his perceptions.

Staring out over the ocean, he fingered the paper gone soft with the repeated worrying of his fingers across it. Its words and that from the photo imprinted on his mind.

The photo contained a colorful scene captured of the team gathered together somewhere he did not recognize. The seating consisted of something that reminded Steve more of a human bird's nest than anything else. From the center, Miss Lewis smiled at Bucky, her ankles resting in his lap. Barton cradled her sideways against him as Stark gave her a head ruffle from above, Miss Potts regarding him fondly. Banner and Natasha could be seen chatting off to the left. Mjolnir rested between their feet. The most damning part of the image was Bucky's metal hand cupped protectively over the curvy brunette's ankle, obviously of his own free will.

In neat handwriting that Steve did not recognize, a statement was printed on the back.

"You seem to make a distinction between females based on whether they are married or intend to marry prior to having sexual intercourse. If they are or intend to be, then the female is a lady to be respected. If the female has or does not intend to marry, then you seem to regard her as no longer being female. In your eyes, she is lesser. She is shaped like a lady, but possessing of some property invisible to the eye that allow you to treat her in any way you please. None of these women are lesser. None are married or intend to marry."

The letter continued the same theme, but in Bucky's distinctive voice. Far more formal than Steve was used to hearing his friend speak, but nonetheless pure Bucky.

The single piece of paper could have been a razor slid through his ribs and tearing into his heart.

"...that is the nature of dehumanization. And that's why your particular misogynistic variety of hypocritical bullshit is so fucking appalling. You claim that I'm your best friend, that I'm worthy of being forgiven, despite all that I done and been through. You claim that I'm worthy of pity even though no one even me could mistake the Winter Soldier for human. And still you don't have an ounce of it for a woman who's done absolutely nothing to you but agree to have sex with you a little sooner than you thought she ought to. That's why, Captain Rogers, I hope that you do have something in common with the Stevie Rogers I knew in Brooklyn, because I hope that you value those memories highly enough to be willing to limit our contact to the strictly professional for the time being, for the sake of not overwriting the good memories you say we share with bad ones. Understand that the actions you took caused pain for me and the people I cherish and what that means to me. If you loved me at all, then do this for me. Sincerely yours, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes."

Steve sighed and dropped his head. He didn't know where things had gone wrong. Only that they had. He'd never heard Bucky sound so formal, so distant.

If only... There! A flash from the end of the pier. Time to leave and see what his future held. He believed there were some apologies he needed to make.

-The End-


End file.
